


The Ocean Between Us

by noxsoulmate



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Architect Dean, Celebrity Castiel, Celebrity Crush, Dean/Cas Pinefest, Drinking to Cope, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Misunderstandings, Moondoor (Supernatural), Mutual Pining, Writer Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 22:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 27,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9681254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxsoulmate/pseuds/noxsoulmate
Summary: Living a hermit life, Dean Winchester didn’t need much. The only things important to him were his position in the business that was once owned by his family, his boat, and his friendship with Castiel, Charlie, and Gabriel. If only there wasn’t a whole ocean between them, then maybe he could even give his feelings for Castiel a chance …





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There are a lot of people that I owe my heartfelt thanks when it comes to the development of this fic and I will do so in the end note. For now, please enjoy all the pining in my entry for the Dean/Cas Pinefest 2017 and the amazing art from my wonderful artist [made-of-stardusts](http://made-of-stardusts.tumblr.com/).
> 
> As the title might already give away, one of our guys is not living in America in this fic. I still kept his language mostly American to have a certain consistency to the fic and also to make it easier to read. But here and there, there are a few words woven in from that country’s language.

 

_The sun rises, shining its first light over the blood-soaked Fields of Never in the heart of Moondoor. A new dawn is breaking, seeing the aftermath of the Battle of Kingdoms, as the survivors stand over the newly dead, catching their breaths. Charlie, Queen of Moons, turns around, letting her gaze wander over her loyal men and women, those Followers of the Moon; over the Elves and Warriors of Yesteryear who decided just in time that only united could they survive. The Queen lets out a scream of victory, raising her sword to the heavens. Those that live join in her celebration. Once again, the Shadow King is thwarted, his army of Shadow Orcs slain. The wise and beautiful ruler of Moondoor knows she couldn’t have done it alone. Experience points show her gratitude to her people and she hands them out full of joy and thankfulness, before she turns to embrace the most loyal of friends. Those that have faced more battles with her than any other soul, living or dead. Her Forever Crown would have been lost many times already, had it not been for the Queen's Honor Guard; her three brave men: Gabriel the Trickster, a thief with honor; Castiel the Fallen Angel, walking among the Followers of the Moon as one of them; and Dean the Handmaiden. Together, they leave the Fields of Never behind. Until the next time the Shadow King sends his army of dreaded Shadow Orcs. But rest assured: the Queen of Moons and her knights will be prepared._

 

“And that’s it for tonight; hope you all had a great time.”

Dean listened to the few “goodbyes” and “thank yous” over his headphones while he kept his eyes on the screen. The battlefield was still in the picture and he took a few quick notes about glitches he would need to take care of. They weren’t too bad, most likely no one had noticed but him. Yet, Dean was a perfectionist so the fact that it looked like one of the dead orcs was lying quite literally _in_ the stone rather than atop or next to it – yeah, that really bothered him. He knew glitches were normal for online RPGs, but this wasn’t just any RPG and other games didn’t have passionate architect Dean Winchester as a graphic designer. So orcs in stones? No way.

“Find some more mistakes, Dean-o?” an annoying voice sounded through his headphones. He held up a hand to the second screen, or more precisely to the camera on top of it to signal his friends to give him a second. He could hear them chuckling while he scribbled down some more notes (a head in a tree stump, really?), but he knew it was more affectionate than anything else. They knew he was fussy about his part in this.

Once he was done, his eyes finally left the battlefield and wandered over to the connected second screen. On the bottom left, the chat room window for players was open and there was still some texting going on. However, Dean focused on the three video chats, equally spaced over the rest of the screen. Next to the chat his annoying friend Gabriel grinned at him, a lollipop sticking out of his mouth. Above that window was Charlie, the little sister he never knew he wanted. She smiled at him fondly, patiently waiting for him to finish his scrutiny. Next to her was his best friend, adorably dorky and sometimes shy Castiel.

“So, what did ya find?” Gabriel asked, rolling his lollipop around his mouth while talking. Dean held up his notes, as if his friends could read any of his scrawl.

Charlie only chuckled. “It looks amazing Dean, no matter what you say.”

“I never said it didn’t,” he protested. “There’re just some glitches I need to take care of. But the narrative was awesome, good job there, Cas.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

Castiel’s shy smile never failed to warm his heart and make him smile in response. As did Charlie’s constant babbling when she went on and on about a topic she loved, just as she did now. From the setting over the narration to the enthusiasm of their fans, Charlie was simply happy. And even Gabe’s joking and sometimes annoying tendencies had Dean grinning. There was no denying it: Aside from his brother Sam, these three were the most important people in Dean’s little world.

“Okay, what’s the final verdict about this segment of Moondoor?” Charlie asked at long last, playing with her pen.

“I liked it,” came Gabe’s immediate answer. “I think story-line and setting played well together. Sure, there are some things that might need fine-tuning, but it should definitely be part of Moondoor.”

When Dean and Cas nodded, Charlie squealed in triumph. “Awesome! Shall we wrap it up then for tonight? I’m actually tired.”

Concern was instantly written on the men’s faces. “You alright, Red?” Gabe asked. The fact that Charlie was tired at midnight was highly unusual.

But she simply waved away their concern. “Sure, was just a long day.”

“Actually, you’re right,” Gabe confessed, stretching in his chair and yawning. “I should probably get some rest. Running a whole business on too little sleep is not recommended.”

“At least you’re at the source of good coffee,” Castiel deadpanned.

Amused, Gabe fired back: “Well, of course. But how would you know? You never drink coffee when you come in.”

Only rolling his eyes, Castiel didn’t reply, which was as good as admitting defeat for the guy. The whole exchange left a wistful feeling arching in Dean’s chest, but he still smiled and shook his head over their bickering.

Finally waving goodbye, first Charlie, then Gabe left the conversation, the windows that had held their faces both turning black. And as often happened that left Dean and Castiel to talk alone. And as usual, neither of them seemed eager to leave.

“How are you doing, Dean?”

Shrugging, Dean tried to stay honest with Cas as he always did. “I’m alright, I guess. Could be better, but I’m holding up.”

Castiel’s frown and his narrowed eyes showed the deep concern for his friend. “Have you finally talked to your boss?”

“No.”

“Dean …”

“I know, Cas, okay? I know. It’s just … it’s not so easy, okay?” Maybe he should reconsider and just lie in the future, telling Cas he was fine. Although the guy would most likely just see right through it.

“What’s not easy about it? Some dicks at your work are stealing your ideas and selling them as their own. Have done so for months. You need to tell your boss.”

“I think he knows,” Dean whispered, effectively silencing the other man.

Blue eyes looked at him in shock. “Come again?”

Rubbing a hand over his face, Dean got up, stretched, and walked over to the tiny kitchen. When he got back to his computer he put the tumbler with whiskey down, ignoring the disapproving look of his friend. If they were having this conversation, he wasn’t going to have it completely sober.

“I hope you’re not planning on driving later on.”

“You wanna hear the story or not?”

Castiel’s frown deepened and as if to challenge him Dean kept their gazes locked when he took his first sip. Lips pursed, Cas looked away.

Dean knew his friend was pissed. He hated it when Dean drank and he had good reason to. Instead of apologizing, Dean simply started to talk about his issues at work.

Maybe he needed a little bit of Dutch courage to talk – but at least he did. He had a hard time opening up when it came to this part in his life. Even Sammy didn’t really get him. He wasn’t sure if Cas did, but at least his friend didn’t judge. The man simply listened and tried to find a rational approach to Dean’s problems. Only, there was no approach to the problem he had. And had had for a while now.

Dean was an architect at “Adler Architecture” – only that it hadn’t always been named that. Dean’s parents had built the business from scratch. His mother, Mary, had been a talented artist and architect, imagining the finest buildings and Dean certainly knew where he had inherited his talent from. He’d once showed Castiel old drawings from her and all his friend had said was: “You have her style. Her signature as well as her eye for detail. It’s truly amazing.” Dean still pretended that those words hadn’t made him tear up.

His father, John, had been the business man, handling the finances and contracts, in charge of hiring new people and finding new jobs. It had all been so perfect – until the day Mary died in a car accident when Dean was only fourteen years old. From there, it had all gone downhill. They had enough qualified architects to keep “Winchester Architecture” running for a while, but the problem was what it did to John. He had started to drink; a fact Cas often reminded Dean of when he witnessed his friend drinking like tonight. But what had been even worse was the gambling. When Dean was seventeen, the Winchesters as well as their business were so deep in debt that his father had no other choice but to sell the company to their competitor, Zachariah Adler. The only thing John had been able to get out of the deal was a secured position for Dean, who by then had dropped out of school to take care of everything: his brother, his father, and the business. It was the reason he’d never gotten the chance to go to college to actually study what he loved. It didn’t really matter. Everything he needed to know he had learned from his mother, most likely before he could even walk.

But the most important part, at least for him, was that he was able to work in the business his parents had started. He felt like he owed it to his mother and even his father, who’d never recovered from losing it all and had died when Dean had only been twenty-one.

Cas knew all this about Dean, had known for a long time. And he didn’t judge him for it.

Not like Sammy, who constantly lamented about how Dean shouldn’t be okay with being just one of the many architects in the office, only there to handle the smaller projects and lucky whenever he was allowed to be on a team for bigger ones.

Not like Charlie, who asked him time and time again if it truly was enough for him after twelve years of working there.

Not like Gabriel, who complained that Adler seemed to be a douchebag kind of boss – “and I should know, I’m a boss myself, Dean-o” – who didn’t value Dean’s work.

He knew his friends and brother were just concerned for him and for that he loved them. But it was also nice to have Cas, who understood without asking or judging. At least not outright.

Yet, there were two things Castiel simply wasn’t able to turn a blind eye on. One was the fact that Dean constantly worked too much. And two was the mystery of Dean’s ideas and plans for bigger projects simply disappearing from his desk, only to show up later on and being used by others without giving him credit. Dean never had any proof, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew his style – the style that was so much like his mother’s – and he knew that of his colleagues. So it wasn’t hard for him to recognize his older, formerly dismissed ideas suddenly being used in newer projects. It wasn’t hard to recognize his ideas in a presentation of one of the head architects, claimed to be their own after they’d vanished from his own desk just a few days or even only hours before.

But he could never prove it.

“Why are you so sure Adler is in on this?” Cas asked after Dean had given him all the details of the latest happening.

“I’m not saying he’s ‘in’ on whatever this is. But Cas, I’ve worked for that guy for twelve years now. He can’t be that blind or stupid.” Taking another sip and letting it burn down his throat, Dean continued. “Besides, the other day when it happened, I could see how he was gazing in my direction. Cas, I’m telling you, it was as if he was challenging me to say something in front of our clients.”

He was met with silence for a moment, Cas clearly careful about how to phrase what was on his mind. “Have you thought about –”

“I’m not quitting my job. Jesus, Cas!” How could he even suggest that?

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Castiel threw in quickly. “I was going to ask if you’ve ever thought that it might be a scam? Some sick psycho game to get you to quit?”

Grinding his teeth, Dean shook his head; he didn’t want to believe it. “I don’t know. I don’t care. This is my family’s company; he’s not going to get me out of it.” But what if that was really Adler’s plan?

Putting his whiskey down, he let his head fall into his hands, groaning. Life was so not fair.

“Dean …” he heard his friend’s voice, soft and full of concern. When he looked up, he caught a glimpse of Castiel’s outstretched hand, as if he was trying to reach through the monitor to touch and comfort him. The hand dropped immediately and Dean decided not to comment on it.

“Can we please talk about something else? I can’t think about that right now.”

“Dean –”

“How’s book thirteen coming along?”

Heaving a sigh, Cas allowed the change of topic. For now. Dean was sure they’d be talking about it again very soon.

“It’s … a bit slower than usual.”

“Meaning?”

Sighing again, this time for completely different reasons, Cas’ fingers raked through his hair, mussing it up. Dean hid his smile behind the tumbler. He would never tell his friend, but in moments like these Cas looked absolutely adorable.

_And damn, not thinking about that now._

Quickly, he downed a big gulp of whiskey and washed away all his inappropriate thoughts.

“I can’t even describe it. I’m just having a hard time and I feel like it doesn’t flow as it usually does.”

“You know I’m always here to help, right?”

Staring at him for a few silent moments, Cas finally heaved another sigh. He was doing that a lot tonight.

“Hey, Cas? Something else bothering you?”

“Yes … No. I don’t know.”

Seeing Cas like that hurt, but knowing he wasn’t there to actually comfort his friend was almost worse.

“Cas, buddy, look at me.” It took a moment before he could see those blue eyes again. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m just …” Cas started, only to swallow hard before starting again. “I don’t know if maybe it’s run its course.”

Dean blinked at his screen for a moment. _Run its course? As in_ … “You thinking about ending the series?” _Shit, I shouldn’t have sounded so shocked. Supportive, be supportive._ “Sorry. Sorry, that came out wrong. I mean, if you feel like that –”

“I don’t know, that’s the problem. I don’t know what or how I feel anymore. I don’t know anything anymore.”

This time, both hands wandered into the dark mess Cas called his hair and he wasn’t just messing it up, he was pulling on it to a degree Dean thought must be painful. Damn. How was it that Cas was always such an intuitive good friend and Dean was an idiot that only made it worse?

“Cas, why don’t you send me what you have so far and I’ll take a look? I’m sure we can find a solution. And if it means the end of ‘Ghostfacers’, then so be it.”

The longer Cas thought about his offer, the antsier it made Dean. Didn’t Cas trust him anymore with his scripts?

At long last, Cas nodded. “I can send you a short piece. It’s not much, but it’s … well, the rest doesn’t make much sense yet. Not yet edited and all that.”

The comment made Dean frown. Over the last years, he’d lost count of how many drafts Cas had sent him with comments like “just wrote that, haven’t even read over it, just tell me if it’s total crap”. Why was he suddenly so closed up about the new book? “You know that doesn’t bother me.”

“But it bothers me,” Cas snapped back and Dean instantly held up his hands in surrender.

“Woah, alright, alright. Just send me what you’re comfortable with.”

Sighing again, Cas looked away. “I’m sorry Dean. I know you only wanna help. Sorry I snapped at you. It’s getting late. I should go to bed.”

Dean checked the clock on his screen that showed Cas’ local time. It was almost 1 a.m. “Yeah, you probably should.” He really didn’t want to end on this note, but neither of them seemed to be in the right mood for any nice conversation. Damn, he was so over this day, this whole week actually. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure. You have a nice evening, Dean.”

He didn’t want to end the call, really didn’t want to let Cas go like that. Yet, to be honest, it wouldn’t be the first time. Sometimes, Cas just got into these moods. Or Dean would have a rough day and just be a pile of self-loathing, insecure piece of shit. But that didn’t mean it made it any easier to let Cas go whenever a situation like this happened.

“You too,” he replied, just in time before the video went black.

He stared at the screen for a few minutes longer, but it wasn’t coming back online. Not that he had expected it would – hoped for, maybe, but certainly not believed it.

Sighing deeply, he drained the last inch of his whiskey and got up. The motions of putting the bottle away and washing the glass happened on autopilot. And then he was left with nothing to do. The clock on his microwave showed 8.07 p.m., but it was running fast by eight minutes or so. Eight o’clock on a Saturday evening and Dean had no idea what to do. He could go out, but he had no desire to do so. He hadn’t had in a while now, but he forced himself not to think about the reason for his lack of desire for quick hook-ups.

Standing in his tiny kitchen, an open alcove in one corner of his apartment, he looked at the little area he called his living room. In the corner opposite the kitchen, a big desk took most of the space the room had to offer. On it was Dean’s computer system, a few sorting systems and some scattered books and papers. There was no TV, everything Dean needed he could watch on his computer. An old couch stood next to the desk, under a window that hardly ever let any light in. It was on the northern wall and just a few feet away from the gray washed wall of the next shitty apartment building. The couch was littered with more books and clothes. There was a tiny table in front of it, mostly used for sketching. On the left side of the kitchen was the entrance door, a few nails in the otherwise bare wall, just enough to hold Dean’s jackets. Between door and desk was a wooden shelf Dean had built from some drift wood a few years ago. More books, DVDs, and some CDs were scattered on it. The two bottom shelves were covered with a thick curtain, his clothing hidden behind it. On the opposite wall, to the right of the kitchen, were two doors and nothing else. One was his bathroom, one his bedroom.

The living room was hardly 200 square foot, his bedroom barely 70.

Dean had half a thought of driving down to the docks where his real home lay at anchor, but no. He had had a glass of whiskey and even though he was pretty sure he could still drive, he really didn’t want to risk pissing off Cas should he end up in the hospital because of it. Laughing humorlessly, he thought about how his friend might even come down here just to kick his ass and tell him, “I told you so,” in person.

_Well, at least that would be a first._

The _ping_ of a new email reached his ear, saving him from going down that path of unwelcomed dark thoughts. It was from Cas.

 

_Sorry again for snapping at you. Here’s what I have so far. See you tomorrow. Cas_

 

It wasn’t the shortest email he’d ever gotten from his friend, but it was still painful to read. Sighing again – seemed like he did that a lot tonight as well – he opened the attachment on his laptop. While the document loaded, Dean unplugged his laptop from all the additional monitors, switched off the computer and all the surrounding systems, and went to the bedroom.

If someone thought his living room was sparse, they hadn’t seen his bedroom yet. There was a tiny window directly opposite the door. At least this one was to the western side with no buildings in the way. The room was bare of any furniture at all, a single mattress on the left wall all he needed. His ‘bed’ wasn’t even made; he never bothered, no one but him usually saw it. And if they did – well, they were gone the next morning anyway, so who cares? A few more nails in the wall right beside the door were all he needed to hang up the suits and shirts he had for work. No shelves had ever found their way in this room, his books and more DVDs scattered around the floor, stacked in one corner or sorted in a box. A single lamp stood next to his mattress.

Dean didn’t bother switching on the overhead light, letting the light of his laptop guide him the few steps so he wouldn’t stumble over any stray socks. Putting the laptop down and plugging it in, he got rid of his jeans before throwing himself on the mattress. Just as he had made himself comfortable, banging and the squeaking of bedsprings above his head started up, accompanied with telling noises.

“Oh come on, already?”

Not at all a fan of hearing his neighbor from the apartment above him get some while he was alone and whiny tonight, Dean reached for the headphones and plugged them in as well. Letting a playlist run in the background, just loud enough to cover the noises from above but not too loud to keep him from thinking, he finally turned to the eight pages Cas had send him.

 

 

It was awful.

There was no other way to put it and Dean wondered more than once if this was even really from Cas. Some parts showed him that it really was; certain passages definitely had his friends’ familiar phrasing. And it wasn’t even that it was downright bad … It was just … completely lacking heart. It had no substance, no force behind it, no depth like Cas’ writing usually had. It was so much lacking Cas’ usual style Dean couldn’t even read it a second time.

Pushing his laptop aside, Dean let his head hit the wall and closed his eyes, just letting his thoughts drift. He still remembered the day he had found out his online friend Cas was actually Castiel Novak, author of the bestselling “Ghostfacers”-series. He’d been freaking out about it, fangirling so hard he was lucky they didn’t have video chats back then. Castiel’s series, a combination of thriller, action, mystery, and an intriguing supernatural world, ranked in the top ten fantasy series of all times. Cas had only been nineteen when the first book had skyrocketed his career, making him famous almost overnight. He was working on book thirteen now, while book twelve was about to be published in just a few weeks. That would mean more promotion tours; hence the first draft for book thirteen was due before the craziness started.

Not once had the series lost its edge. Dean knew, because he had been following since book one, had even been to a signing once when Castiel Novak had come to his city. If someone had told him back then that only a few months later they would meet online and become friends, he wouldn’t have believed it. Of course he still remembered every moment of that encounter (not that it had lasted long), but he was pretty sure Castiel didn’t. He’d never asked him, but Cas was at so many book signings over the years, of course he wouldn’t remember one unremarkable encounter.

It didn’t matter to Dean. What was important was their friendship now.

In all honesty, it had taken him a few weeks to get to this point. After not only knowing, but fully comprehending that “Cas” and “Castiel Novak” were the same person he had needed a few more days to get over his fangirl tendencies. But soon, he was back to being normal around his friend. Because that was what he was, after all: his friend. So what if Cas was also a guy that got featured on magazine covers now and then? What if Forbes counted him as one of the richest authors of modern times? What if several teen magazines constantly voted him most handsome bachelor of America? No one but his few close friends knew the real person behind those blue eyes and the killer smile. Like the fact that he was really shy and still down to earth despite his fame. Or that he sometimes snorted when laughing too hard. Or that he had an irrational love for bees. Or an insane addiction to burgers. Or that he hated coffee but loved hot chocolate with lots of whipped cream.

Or what his voice sounded when he’d just woken up, even darker and all scratchy.

They didn’t know what it sounded during sex, when he was so close he was begging Dean for more. For some release. Those moans driving them both insane. _“Dean.”_

 

 

Dean startled awake, ripping his headphones off in the process.

Disorientated, he looked around the completely dark room. When it hit him, he groaned and let himself fall back on the mattress, covering his face with his hands. Note to himself: no more thinking about Cas before falling asleep. Inappropriate sex dreams about his best friend would never do him any good. Ever.

Checking his phone he realized he’d already slept his normal amount of six hours. Maybe next time, he shouldn’t fall asleep around 9 p.m., then he wouldn’t wake up just shortly after three in the morning. Well, no reason to dwell on it now.

Getting up, he took a quick shower, fixed himself a bowl of cereal, and sat down with his laptop to read over Castiel’s draft once more. It hadn’t gotten any better while Dean was sleeping. He finished up his breakfast before finally composing an email to send back to Cas, not even trying to sugar coat it.

 

 _Cas, this is_ not _you. We’ll talk about this and you’re going to tell me what’s blocking you so hard that you’ve written something like this. It’s not all bad – but man, where was your heart while you were writing this?_

 _I’m not mad at you for snapping at me. But I_ will _be mad if you don’t tell me what’s going on. If you realize that you truly wanna end this series, then okay. But you’re going to give it the ending it deserves, or it will haunt you forever._ I _will haunt you forever!_

_I’m going to work on the new segment for Moondoor now we talked about last week. Maybe I can show you guys first parts tonight._

_Dean_

 

It had just turned five in the morning, which meant it was ten in the morning for his friends. Gabe most likely was already awake and working, Charlie was probably just getting up, and Cas? Cas was a grumpy cat when he woke too early, but by now there was a slight chance he was already awake.

Dean felt the need to call either of them, just to talk for a bit, to hear the voice of a friend. Which was stupid, really. They’d just talked last night and they would do so again tonight during Moondoor. Instead, he decided to be productive and got on to creating the next segment. A few hours later, he went grocery shopping and afterwards decided to clean his apartment, something he hadn’t done in quite a while.

He’d just finished up with his second load of laundry when a skype call came in. A quick check of the clock on his monitor told him it was just past one in the afternoon – after 6 p.m. for his friends.

“Hey Cas,” he greeted, sitting down in his office chair, ready for an afternoon on the computer.

His friend looked a bit gloomy, nodding in response. “Hello, Dean.”

“I take it you’ve read my email?”

And there it was again, the sighing. Nodding, Cas seemed to play with something that was just out of Dean’s sight, but knowing his friend, it was most likely some smooth stone or a piece of paper. “Yeah, I did.” A long pause, followed by another sigh. “Well, at least it’s nice to see you’re really over your phase of fangirling –”

“Oi!”

“– and actually don’t shy away from giving me critique.”

“I never –”

Yeah, there really wasn’t any way for him to finish that sentence truthfully without making a total fool of himself. The only good thing about it was the slight smile he saw on Cas’ lips. It was so small other people might not have noticed.

Shaking his head, Dean tried to hide his own smile. “Shut up.”

The sound of Cas’ chuckle lifted something off of Dean’s shoulders he hadn’t even noticed had been there since last night. He joined in bashfully, just happy that the weird tension between them was gone.

“Before you ask,” Cas started. “I honestly can’t tell you what’s wrong right now. It feels like I’ve lost my connection to the characters.”

“Even to Jimmy? How’s that possible? He’s been with you for over a decade now, if not longer. He’s basically you.”

Jimmy was the main character of the “Ghostfacers”-series. A young man that drove all over America to solve mystery crimes that were either the stuff of nightmares, or derived from the supernatural, sometimes both. There was no pattern, which made it all the more thrilling to read the books and try to solve the mystery along with the Ghostfacers, and then in the end find out what it actually was. Jimmy usually had the help of a few friends all over the States that varied through the books and it was always nice to see a character again that Cas had last mentioned three books earlier. The two most constant friends since the beginning had been Ed and Harry, two media students that always helped Jimmy with faking identities, hacking into important security systems, things like that.

“It’s not because of Bruce, right? The way your fans see them?”

“I just don’t know if I can write them this way.”

“Dude, the way your fans see it? You already did for eight books now.”

Bruce had started out as a onetime appearance in book four. But he was such a fan favorite Castiel had decided to bring him back during book six and ever since he was by Jimmy’s side more times than not. Even though Castiel had played the more brotherly bond between the friends, fans had soon started to think of them as more than that. A fact Castiel didn’t seem to like all that much, although Dean knew for a fact that it was not because they were both dudes.

“Yeah, maybe. But that was never supposed to happen.”

“Well, sometimes the best things that happen in life are those that weren’t supposed to happen.”

Squinting at him, Cas tilted his head slightly to the side, a move that always signaled that he was either confused or just thinking about something really hard. _And it was so darn cute._ “When did you get so wise, Mr. Fortune Cookie?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean rather tried to find a solution to the problem at hand. “So, is that really your problem? A relationship between two characters you don’t want?”

Cas sobered a bit, picking up the stone he’d been playing with the whole time so Dean could see it in the frame. “I just don’t want it to look like I just did it to have some soap opera happily ever after ending should I really let the series end after this book.”

“Well, you could always let them get together and then kill off one or both of them and let the series end like that.”

The only answer he got for that was a dark look from Cas that Dean returned with a wide grin. He knew how much Cas hated it when a character had to die just for the sake of drama.

“Okay, how about this,” Dean gave in. “Your fans love Bruce, right? But we hardly know anything about him. Why don’t you start this book off with giving us a bit more about him? Write it from his point of view. Make the story about him. Some dark secret from his past that haunts him now. Maybe leads to their next case. I mean, there are a few secrets Jimmy and the readers don’t know about, yet, right?”

“Of course there are. You never give your readers the full story of each character.”

“Well, there you go.”

Cas sat back in his chair, playing with his stone with his thinking face on. Dean used the time to get himself a coke. He was still at the fridge when Cas started talking again. “I can actually see that. I could start with a flash back to his childhood when …”

Dean loved times like these. Lazy afternoons with Cas, just listening to his friend brainstorming all his ideas. Sometimes, he wasn’t even sure if Cas still realized Dean was even there, listening to him. But then his friend would ask for his opinion, would talk directly to him, showing Dean that he was always aware of him.

They had first met online while Cas was in the process of writing book five. By the time book seven was in the making, they were so close that Castiel had asked him for help brainstorming ideas. It was also the first book that Dean had been allowed to read before Castiel submitted it. So yes, maybe Dean had done nothing more than to gush about that one. But by book eight, he had understood that Cas really wanted and even needed the feedback. By now, just like this morning, he had no problem telling Castiel when whatever he’d written was simply shit.

It was two hours later when Gabriel and Charlie joined them and after showing them a few minutes of the new segment he’d been working on this morning, their evening and night of playing Moondoor started.


	2. Chapter 2

Dean’s work week usually held no surprises. He went to work at eight in the morning, took an hour long lunch break somewhere between noon and two in the afternoon, and went home around six in the evening, if his work load allowed it. The only thing exciting in his life were his constant chats with Cas, sometimes with Charlie, and even now and then with Gabe. They had a group chat on Facebook, naturally, but more often than not Dean and Cas would chat privately.

Evenings and weekends were spent working on Moondoor, the love child of the four friends. They had been talking about starting this for years, ever since meeting one another some eight to ten years ago in a Star Wars forum. Almost a year ago, they’d finally just done it. Moondoor was born, the combination of an online RPG forum with set times of quests for the whole community and LARPing events in real life; an instant success.

Charlie, IT girl by day, nerd by night, was the head of their little gang, a good soul, as well as the one that handled all the IT stuff that came with running such a community. Gabriel, coffee shop owner in real life, coordinated the live events and handled their finances and what little franchise they already had. Dean loved creating things in his mind, be it buildings or fantasy worlds, and then bringing them to life with his own hands, be it on paper or a computer screen. Cas, with his vast imagination and a talent for words and plotlines, was their story teller. Even though they all had their parts and jobs in the success of Moondoor, everybody had a say in every aspect.

The system was simple: just as with any other online RPG, members were able to play 24/7, earning points, getting better, and ranking higher. The four friends worked constantly to expand the world and the standard quests. On the weekends they held big events: most of the time it was a new quest the community fought together, sometimes it was festivals, and twice now it had been LARPing events, both times big successes. Only those who earned experience points online and at their LARPs were able to rise in the ranks and become those lucky few that were allowed to communicate with the group via headsets during the big weekend quests. Everybody else was just able to listen to whoever narrated the quest of the day and write in the chatroom. If someone passed one of the privileged ones, they took over that right. It was enough incentive for people to be active and to join LARPs as well as the online quests.

It was also the reason why Dean was still simply Charlie’s handmaiden, even though he was in the ranks of the Queen’s Honor Guard. While the heart of Moondoor was located in California and his friends lived in San Francisco, Dean lived almost eight thousand miles away. So while his friends were able to meet almost every day, have movie nights and sleepovers, and could go to conventions and LARPs together, Dean could only watch from afar.

Because Dean lived in Melbourne, Australia.

He was born in Lawrence, Kansas, as was his younger brother Sam, but his family had moved Down Under when both boys had still been kids. And while Sammy had moved back to the US for college and was now settled with a white picket fence and a fiancée, expecting their first child at only 25 years old, Dean was still in Australia working in the family business that hadn’t actually been their business for many years now.

As part of Moondoor’s inventor’s team, Charlie had offered Dean the opportunity to cheat their own system and let him rise higher many times. But it felt wrong to him and thus had no value. He would rather just stay Charlie’s handmaiden and try not to be too heartbroken whenever a weekend without an online quest was ahead of them.

“Alright guys, that’s it for tonight and don’t forget: next week we get to meet in real life once more, yay,” Gabriel finished up for the night on this Sunday. Well, Sunday for Dean, Saturday for everybody else. “We’ll meet at Southside Park in Sacramento bright and early, which for that weekend will be the Elder Forest and the Black Hills. We’ve already prepared an amazing storyline for you, so trust me when I say: you don’t wanna miss it. You’ll find all the information you need on our homepage. We hope to see you there.”

While those few that were granted speaking rights during the quests once more said their goodbyes, Dean tried hard not to dwell in his misery. Distracting himself with his usual search for more glitches, he only looked back up once it was just his friends and him. He was met with three concerned gazes and heaved a sigh.

“I’m fine, guys, honestly. We’ve talked about this, no need to dwell on it.”

His friends weren’t reassured and Dean couldn’t blame them. He wasn’t even convincing himself. It had all seemed such a great idea when they’d first thought about it and maybe one day, when Moondoor made the step from a beta version to the real deal and would take over the world (which was totally their endgame) he would be able to host LARPs down here as well. But even that wouldn’t be the same without his friends.

And yet. There really was no reason for them to overthink it. Knowing that and letting it go, Gabriel nodded. “Guess it’s time for Charlie and me to leave then. Let you to alone to … talk.” Wiggling his eyebrows, the trickster looked like he’d just told them a sleazy joke, but all Dean could do was to frown. For months now, their friend seemed to get a kick out of throwing little innuendoes in the room here and there, regarding Dean and Castiel. It never failed to equally embarrass, annoy, and confuse Dean. He just couldn’t think of a reason why Gabe would do it. Sure, Cas and Dean talked more with each other than the rest of them. But they’d done so for years, so really, why suddenly point it out?

Not only was it annoying, Castiel’s reaction to such teasing with double meanings never failed to pierce Dean’s heart. Just as it did now.

“Gabe,” his friend growled warningly, the sound sending Dean’s thoughts straight to the gutter. But besides that, it really hurt. Because despite the fact he didn’t need confirmation, it showed him again and again that Cas would never see him as anything more than a good friend. He was okay with that, really. Had been for years now. He only wished Gabriel would stop being such an ass, that was all.

In the wake of Charlie and Gabriel’s departure an uneasy tension rose between them. Dean tried to evade it before it could settle.

“So, how is the book coming along now?”

It had been three weeks since that afternoon where Dean had given Cas a new direction and he had asked about it even more frequently ever since, Cas never failing to reassure him that he was on a good path.

“I’m getting there,” Cas told him once more.

“Good,” Dean replied, smiling encouragingly. “Any chance you’ll get the first few chapters ready for me to read next weekend? You know … since I don’t have anything else to do …”

“Dean …”

There was so much pain in Cas’ voice Dean instantly regretted what he’d said. “Sorry, it’s alright Cas. I mean, I’ll be honest: it hurts that I can’t be there. But then again, it’s always a bit painful not to be with you guys.”

He wouldn’t ever admit this to his other friends or his brother; although he had a suspicion they knew without him having to put it into words. But Cas … well, Cas was Cas. He had no secrets with him.

_Except for the fact that you sometimes have sex dreams about him and you’ve basically been crushing on this guy for almost a decade._

_Yeah, nope, not thinking about that now, damnit!_

There was this look on Cas’ face again, solemn and a bit broody, as if he was thinking about how to phrase something that Dean might not like hearing. What Dean really didn’t like were those looks. “Dean, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while.”

“Alright, shoot,” Dean replied, way more confident than he really was.

“Have you ever …” Cas had to stop and start over. This really couldn’t be anything good. ”Have you ever thought about moving back to the States?”

For a few seconds, Dean just stared blankly at the screen, completely blindsided by the question. He only came out of his stupor when Cas cast his eyes down and mumbled something that sounded like “never mind”. His friend actually looked a little heartbroken, although Dean couldn’t fathom why that was. He must have been imagining it.

“I … well. I don’t know.”

Cas’ eyes were back on him right away, their intense blue making it hard to continue.

“I mean. I do have my life here, right? Well, okay, Sammy’s in California, but he has his life, his family. He doesn’t need me. And I have the family business here. I guess … I mean there really isn’t any reason for me to just … just move, right?”

He tried to read Cas’ expression, but it didn’t give away much. Why did he even ask?

“No, I guess not,” his friend finally replied. He sounded tired, but then again it was way past two in the morning for him. For that reason, Dean wasn’t surprised by Cas’ next words. “It’s getting late here. I should probably go to bed.”

“Yeah, do that. You have a good night and a nice Sunday tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Dean. Sleep well and have a good day at work.”

“Thanks, Cas.”

They sent each other little smiles, before ending the connection. Dean couldn’t explain it, but for some reason he felt just as weird as he had three weeks ago after they’d snapped at each other. Staring blankly at the black screen for a few more minutes, he finally got up and stretched.

Looking around the apartment he tried to think of something to do before going to bed. He didn’t fancy falling asleep again just after 9 p.m. and therefore waking up at three in the morning. Maybe he could watch a movie, or read a book? Yet both would require sitting alone on his old couch or his mattress and neither thought was really inviting. He could go out, maybe to the movies, but again, he would be alone. Maybe a bar, maybe taking someone home? Then again, it was Sunday and he had a long day at work tomorrow, so probably not a good idea.

All in all, there was really only one thing that came to mind. He got his backpack, the good one reserved for work, made sure nothing was left open or on, grabbed his shoes, jacket, and keys and left his room.

It was only a twenty minute drive down to the docks. Dean stopped halfway to get himself a dinner of burgers, fries, and pie for dessert, handling everything in one trip once he left his beat up old ute in the parking lot. He loved the docks at night, the peaceful, quiet atmosphere, just laughter in the distance from other boats around, the water slapping against wood and aluminum.

“Hey, Baby,” Dean greeted his boat with a fond smile. She was a real beauty and the feeling of home surrounded him the moment he set foot on her. “Missed me?”

Hardly, he’d just been here on Friday. But Dean liked to pretend. Liked to think that there was at least someone that misses him. Even if that someone was a boat. A beautiful Marlow-Hunter 37, customized, the hull a metallic black and the sails silvery gray. The interior was warm brown wood, the upholstery in dark blue hues. He had a few books here as well, his favorites mostly. One of these books held the signature of one famous Castiel Novak. The walls around the seating nook held very old drawings from Sammy when he had still been a kid and pictures that held old memories of happier times. Of vacations with their parents, a school play of Sam’s, his brother’s graduation, and a newer one of him and Sarah, his fiancée. There were pictures of his friends they had sent him a while ago, and there were screenshots of their first adventure through Moondoor.

Putting his stuff on the table and switching on the little radio, Dean let soft country music wash over him while he got comfortable first. As he put his used clothes in the small laundry basket he saw that the thing was almost full and checked how many suits he still had left. He was down to the last, which he would use tomorrow, so he made a mental note to bring some fresh ones back next time and also get the laundry to his apartment to wash the things.

“Hey mom,” he greeted in passing, touching the framed picture that showed a young woman with a little version of himself in her arms. Mary Winchester had been such a beautiful woman and seeing her smile, even if it was just on a picture, always warmed his heart.

The burger and fries were still warm as he got out a plate and put everything on the table. Switching on the TV and zapping through the channels, he let an old cartoon run on mute, listening to the country music as a background, while he devoured his favorite dinner. Once he was done, he spent the next hour or so tinkering with Baby. Not that there was much to do at any given time, seeing how he kept her in a remarkable condition. Her paintwork was fresh and he’d thoroughly cleaned her just the other day. But this was his Baby, so he always found some work, even if technically there was none.

When he was happy with everything done, he got his laptop – his spare one he kept here just so he didn’t always have to remember to bring the other one – and pie, snuggled in his fluffy bed and enjoyed the rest of the evening, not letting the problems in his life come on board.

 

 

Castiel slammed the lid of the laptop shut and buried his face in his hands, fingernails digging into his scalp. How was it that he could stare at this open document for half an hour and not get even one sentence written? At this rate, his non-existent kids would be in college before the next part of the “Ghostfacers”-series got published.

“Rough day?” he heard Charlie’s voice, right as the chair next to him screeched as she threw herself in it.

“Go away.”

“Oh, that bad, huh?”

Cas didn’t dignify her cheerful ribbing with an answer, only curled into himself further, trying to shut out life around him.

“Has he been like this all afternoon?”

“More or less,” Gabe’s voice answered, some china clinging in front of him. He could only hope this was some hot dark chocolate with extra whipped cream. Not that he had ordered it, but it would be the only way he would forgive Gabe for being annoying.

“What’s wrong, Cas?” A soft hand rested on his shoulder and he felt himself relax under Charlie’s touch and her honest worry.

Not removing his head from his arms, he mumbled out his answer, not sure what to tell his friend. “Everything.”

The soft smell of strawberries engulfed him just a second before he felt arms being wrapped gently around his shoulders, pulling him slightly closer. He gave in, letting Charlie cuddle him close. Sometimes, all that was needed was the touch of another person to make it all better. He loved Charlie for this quiet and soothing support and the scent of her strawberry shampoo had long since become one of his favorites.

“Now tell me: what’s this really about?” she whispered into his hair as he heard the mug being pulled closer towards him. He risked a little peek and Thank the Lord, the whipped cream told him everything. Maybe Gabe had more heart than they all gave him credit for.

Speaking of the devil: a plate with a cheese-and-blueberry-cupcake, his favorite, appeared right next to the mug, just before Gabe took a chair on Cas’ other side.

“On the house, kiddo. Now tell us all your sorrows.”

“You’re a dick sometimes,” Cas replied, reaching to pull the hot chocolate closer and savoring the rich smell. Neither of his friends replied, just waiting for him to finally come around and start talking. “I asked him last night.” He could feel his friends’ instant reactions and quickly clarified, “About moving back to the States.”

“And? What did he say?”

His throat pulled tight for a second, but he pushed the painful words out anyway. “Said he never thought about it. That he had no reason to.” _Please don’t let me cry because of this, please._

“Cas …”

Charlie’s arms wound tighter around him, while he felt Gabe’s hand rest on his back. The mere fact that the trickster wasn’t joking around right now spoke volumes.

“It’s alright. I mean, what was I thinking, right? We’re friends … nothing more.” Cas hated how small his voice sounded towards the end. Because really, what had he been thinking? That Dean would tell him he was about to give up his life as he knew it just so he could move closer to his friends? That he would suddenly confess his love and tell Cas that he was reason enough to move? God, Cas felt so stupid for even wishing for it.

Gabe was the first to speak. “Well, you know how I see it.”

“Yes,” Cas replied, probably sharper than was strictly necessary. “And I would very much appreciate it if you could finally stop with those innuendos. Can’t you see how uncomfortable they make Dean? Isn’t it enough that I’m suffering from years of pining? Do you have to make it worse by jeopardizing our friendship by constantly bringing up my crush on him?”

“Oh Cassie, seriously, calm down,” Gabriel replied. For once the author wished the coffee shop would suddenly be inundated with customers on this quiet Sunday afternoon so Gabe wouldn’t have time to shower him with unwelcomed attention. “Can’t you see the way that man looks at you? He’s crushing just as hard, even though he’s a bit better at hiding it than you are.” The fact that Charlie only nodded in an affirmative way had Cas almost at their throats. “He probably thinks all your grumpy replies are proof that his feelings are unrequited. Seriously, you two are complete idiots in love.”

“Shut up, Gabe.”

It wasn’t the first time he had been made to listen to Gabe’s insane theory and most likely it wouldn’t be the last. Even Charlie had gotten to a point where Cas often dreamed about strangling her.

He only wished their falsely placed optimism didn’t hurt so much.

“Besides, I don’t have time to dwell on it. The deadline for my first draft is getting closer and you know how pissy Crowley can get when I miss those deadlines.”

Since Crowley, Cas’ publisher, was a regular at “Trickster’s Delight” his friends had the doubtful honor of making the man’s acquaintance as well. If Crowley hadn’t have been such a shark at getting the best deals for Cas and the most out of the franchise and other contracts, Cas would have searched for another publisher long ago. But Crowley was the best, so Cas had to live with the downside of his snarky comments here and there and just be happy about the money he had made out of each book so far.

“Where are you stuck?”

“Page one,” Cas replied, honest for the first time about how bad his writer’s block really was. Hearing Charlie’s surprised gasp, he buried his head in his arms again.

“Wait, I thought you said it’s coming along?”

“I lied.”

Well, not really. The story was coming along quite nicely – in his head that was. Putting it all down on paper, that was the hard part.

“But I thought Dean –”

“Gave me a new idea, yes. It’s true, it’s all true and in my head, everything looks good. It flows and it comes along and I can see it. But every time I try to write it …”

He had lied to Dean. Okay, no, that wasn’t true either. Whenever Dean asked, he’d answered that he _couldn’t_ tell him why he was so blocked. And man was that true. There was no way he could ever tell his friend the true reason, even though he knew exactly what it was.

It was green eyes and freckles.

It was a smile that warmed his heart.

It was a deep rumbling voice and long, lazy afternoons talking.

It was the times they were together, even if only through a computer monitor. But more than that, it was the times they were apart and all that was _Dean_ would invade his thoughts of every waking hour. And more often than not, his sleeping hours as well.

It was the damn fact that Bruce had become Dean over the years. The one character his fans wanted to see in a love relationship with Jimmy more than anything, and it was the man that was so far out of his reach. How could he give Jimmy a happy ending when there was none for himself in sight?

“Just don’t tell Dean, please. He would ask me why, and I just … I just can’t …”

Charlie’s arms around him never loosened their tight hold on him while Cas suffered in the misery that his life had become.

 

 

When Dean got a text on Friday morning from Charlie, asking if he could be home by six that night for a Moondoor-meeting, Dean skipped lunch so he’d be able to leave work earlier. He had no idea what could be so important that it couldn’t wait until after the LARP, but maybe it had to do with the live event itself. Whatever it was, Charlie seemed excited about it, which had Dean on edge the whole day. And truthfully: whatever it was, he was glad for the distraction because this week had reached a new record of personal hell:

On Monday, Adler had almost ripped him a new one because according to a client, his numbers had been all wrong and now there was a massive mix-up with supplies on the construction site. Dean had checked the files Adler had almost whipped him with and compared them to his own records – it weren’t the same numbers, meaning someone had messed up his files after he’d handed them in. When he tried to tell Adler this the next day, the man hadn’t even listened and called him an incompetent fool in front of the three head architects, Uriel, Metatron, and Raphael.

On Wednesday, Cain told him that he got a better job offer and was going to quit in a few weeks’ time. Dean couldn’t believe it. The man, even though almost twenty years his senior, was one of his oldest friends in Australia and come to think of it, maybe the only real one in this city. He was also the only architect left from the era of “Winchester Architecture”. Adler hadn’t kept much of the old crew after taking over the business and most of them had left over the years. And now Cain wanted to go as well? “It’s not the same business anymore, and you know it, kiddo. Your mom’s soul has long left the place.” Dean hadn’t been able to reply, afraid he would actually cry if he tried.

Yesterday had just been a hectic day in general and then today another of his drafts had gone missing while he had been in the bathroom. He knew he’d left it on his desk next to the real blueprint. That meant yet another of his ideas stolen and Dean was so sick of it and so done with the day and the whole week by the time he switched on his laptop. At least he would be able to see his friends before they left him alone for the weekend.

“Okay, my Queen, shoot,” Dean instructed once he was comfortable in his chair and the conference skype call up. He’d seen right away that Gabriel seemed just as hyped as Charlie, while Castiel looked slightly confused.

“Do you want to tell them, Gabe?”

“Tell us what?” Castiel interrupted, narrowing his eyes threateningly. What was that for?

Gabe’s mood didn’t waver one bit, his wide grin directed at Charlie, as it seemed. “Oh no, my Queen. The honor’s all yours.”

Clapping her hands and actually _bouncing_ up and down, Charlie finally squealed: “We found a sponsor for Moondoor and if we say yes, we can take the next step and make this a real business.”

_What?_

“What?”

More squealing from Charlie and even from Gabe was the answer and as Dean looked to Cas for reassurance that he’d seriously just heard what he had heard, he saw how the confused look on his friend’s face slowly morphed into a wide grin.

_Oh my God, we did it._

Laughing out loud, Dean and Cas joined in the delirium of joy. Holy crap, they’d done it.

It took a few minutes before Charlie and Gabriel were calm enough to explain it all: While Charlie had been shopping for another LARP sword a few weeks ago, she’d had a chance encounter with a manufacturer of LARPing gear. They had gotten to talking and the man, from Charlie’s description a quirky guy that went by the name Garth Fitzgerald IV., had joined their community immediately. This Monday, he had gotten back in contact with Charlie and together with Gabe as their financial expert, they’d discussed business. Nothing was decided yet and Fitzgerald IV. actually wanted to wait until after his first LARP with them, but Charlie and Gabe had such a good feeling about it that they needed to tell their friends straight away.

“Do you even realize what this means?” Charlie beamed. “We could actually make this a real business. We would get the money to take the beta version to the next level. More fans, a wider range. Maybe even LARPs all over America.”

“Now don’t jump the gun there, Red,” Gabe stopped their friend, chuckling fondly at her.

But Charlie was hardly stoppable when she was excited such as that. “No, I mean seriously. I could quit this stupid IT job and invest my time fully into Moondoor. We could finally make money with something we _really_ love.”

“Ehm, hello there?” Dean replied, waving at the camera. Cas chuckled solemnly, copying Dean’s move. “Already doing that?”

“They’re right, Red,” Gabriel stepped in. “Except for you, all of us actually _do_ what we love most. Although, I do admit: I could probably step back a bit, only handle the administrative side of the coffee shop.”

“See,” Charlie exclaimed, jumping in her seat with renewed energy after Dean’s comment had dampened her enthusiasm a bit. “Gabe can do it. What about you Dean?” Her pleading eyes were on him and hell how he hated that. Because usually he couldn’t deny her anything when she looked at him like that.

“Charlie, come on. You know how I feel about –”

“Your family business, yes, yes I know. But come on Dean. This is your chance to build something new. Don’t you think this is what your parents would have wanted?”

“Charlie,” came a warning from Castiel, yet their friend was on a roll and they all knew there was nothing to stop her when she got carried away.

“You really think your mom would hold it against you if you followed your own dreams instead of hers?”

“You know being an architect is my dream as well.”

“Yeah, but not in a company like that douchebag’s. Dean, you can do so much more than just being a little fish in his pond.”

“Wow, thanks. Tell me how you really feel,” Dean replied, trying to hide the hurt behind his heavy sarcasm. He knew Charlie tended to be honest to a fault in moments like these. Which, obviously, didn’t make it any better. Especially not after the week he had.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be like that. You know what I mean. You’re not happy with your job, stop lying to yourself. And you’re not even happy in Melbourne anymore –”

“Charlie!” came Castiel’s warning once again, sharper than before.

“If we do this, who knows, you could even quit your life there and move to America.”

“ _Charlie!_ ”

This time, it was no longer a warning. Castiel and even Gabriel both snapped at their friend, while Dean held up his hands.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

“Why the fuck does everybody suddenly want me to move to America?”

“That’s not the point, Dean-o,” Gabe jumped in before Charlie could start anew. “It has worked so far, it will work just as before should we take the next step. Don’t worry about that. It doesn’t matter from where you create Moondoor.” Dean didn’t miss the glare Charlie was sending Gabe, but she held her tongue, letting him handle the situation. “What’s important is that, should we really expand, obviously it would take more of your time. We would need more and bigger worlds, would need new quests and all that. You probably know better what would have to be done than any of us. So obviously that would require more of your time. But hey,” Gabe relented as he saw Dean trying to protest. “If that is not what you want, then it’s your decision. No one is forcing you, obviously. We could still make it somehow. We’ll need more staff no matter what. So if you decide to not join us full time, then okay. We’ll simply hire even more staff and you’ll have to give up some of your responsibilities. Let other qualified people take over your parts.”

_Wait, what?_

_Take over my parts?_

_They’re kicking me out?_

_No. Don’t be stupid. That’s not what he said._

_Or was it?_

Dean suddenly had a hard time breathing. This was a bit much all of a sudden, the total high from their possible success gone with all the pressure and the realization of what this really meant.

Like an angel that was sent to save him, Castiel pulled their friend’s attention away from Dean. “And what about me? I’m an author, I can’t just give up on writing. Be it this book series or the next. I have contracts to fulfill.”

“And no one asked you to,” Charlie threw in, already on a roll once more. “But you know your muse has given you more for Moondoor lately than for ‘Ghostfacers’ –”

There was a warning “Charlie!” once more, yet it didn’t hinder Dean from hearing the rest of Charlie’s comment.

“– blank pages being proof of that.”

“Excuse me, _what_?”

A withering glare from Cas had Charlie clap her hand over her mouth, but too late. “Thank you, Charlie.” Cas’ tone was darker than Dean had ever heard it before and under different circumstances, this might have distracted him for reasons he would rather not think about.

As it was, Dean didn’t pay attention to anybody or anything else but Cas. “What’s she talking about? Cas? You told me everything was fine now.”

“I … well I might have exaggerated,” his friend finally admitted, sounding like he really didn’t want to talk about it. Well, tough shit. Dean certainly wasn’t letting him off the hook so easily.

“How much have you written so far? For real this time.” When silence was his only answer, he could feel anger rise inside him. “Have you actually written anything at all?” This time, Cas couldn’t even look at him. “And you’ve told me for weeks that everything was peachy?” His friend’s sorrowful eyes bore into Dean and told him all he needed to know. “You lied to me?” His voice broke on the question, Cas’ painted look a stab to his heart. Bile was rising inside him along with the anger, as well as something that felt damn well like tears. But more than the fact that it hurt, there was the fact that Cas was actually jeopardizing his entire career. “Cas, damn it. Your deadline for the first draft is in three weeks!”

“I know that,” his friend finally answered, but Dean wasn’t done yet.

“For fuck's sake, why won’t you tell me what’s really going on?”

At that, his friend seemed to snap as well. “Because I just can’t,” he yelled.

“Why?” Dean yelled back and fuck it if he sounded like he was pleading. “Because you don’t trust me anymore or what?”

“No!”

“Then what? Why tell me everything is okay? Why the fuck would you lie to me?”

“Well, technically, he lied to all –”

“Shut up, Gabe,” Dean snapped, gaze not wavering from Cas. He knew he might be overreacting, but damn if this didn’t hurt like a bitch. He’d reached his limits with the whole rollercoaster of feelings for the day, and now this?

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

He didn’t even care anymore that he was pleading now. He just needed to know why, after eight years, Cas would suddenly not trust him anymore and instead lie to him on such an important matter.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t? Or you won’t?” he snapped, no more pleading in his voice, only anger.

“I don’t owe you an explanation!”

Cas’ sharp voice was like a slap to Dean’s face and he actually pulled back from his laptop.

The silence felt like it was suffocating them until Charlie tentatively spoke up. “Guys, please. Cas, Dean is only trying to help. He’s worried. We’re all worried for you. And Dean, pushing him like that won’t make it better.”

Dean could hear Cas huff, but he just couldn’t bring himself to look back at the screen. This day was turning out to be one of the shittiest in his personal history. Maybe he was overreacting, yes. But it all hurt so much and it hit right in all of his insecurities about himself, about his worth, about Cas, about their friendship. His family’s business didn’t need him. Charlie and Gabe didn’t need him. Moondoor didn’t need him. Cas certainly didn’t need him. And what kind of fool had Dean been for ever believing otherwise.

“No, you don’t owe me anything,” he choked out at last as if Charlie had never spoken. “None of you does.” Fuck, he couldn’t look up or else they would see his tears. “You’re right. Do with the book whatever you want. And just find someone to replace me in Moondoor like you seem so eager to –”

“ _What?”_

“– and have fun this weekend. Hope you make a great business deal.”

“ _Dean!_ ”

“Good night.”

“What? Dean, no, don’t you dare –”

Dean slammed his laptop shut. He hated himself for it the second he did, but he needed air to breathe.

Not thinking anymore, just acting on autopilot, he got up. There wasn’t enough alcohol within reach, so he grabbed his keys, pushed on his shoes, and left the shithole that was his life.


	3. Chapter 3

The Peel was crowded. Dean had gotten a few hungry looks as soon as he had entered the bar slash night club, but for now, his only goal was a hook-up with a bottle of whiskey. Maybe even a threesome, inviting bourbon to the party. He hadn’t thought about the fact that he’d still been in his business suit when he’d fled his room, attracting an even larger group. Because clearly, the only people that went to a night club in a business suit were wealthy snobs, not pathetic losers like him.

Somewhere after his sixth or seventh shot, Dean felt the tension in his back drift away. Or maybe it was because of the soft hands massaging his shoulders. He turned around, sending a lazy grin to the cute guy and got a sexy smile in return.

Tequila.

There was definitely a foursome now with his shots.

Cute guy was gone, at least Dean thought so. His kisses had felt nice, but they’d tasted weird.

Another shot and another.

He’d lost count.

Another guy, dark hair, blue eyes. He looked so much like everything Dean desired, but was all wrong.

He didn’t care as he pushed the guy up against the wall in the side alley.

When had they gotten here?

Rough kisses and hands pushing on clothes.

God, it was so wrong. He was so pathetic.

“Seems like you’re bit too drunk for real fun, eh? What a shame.”

Where did the guy go?

_Cas, why would you lie to me? I thought you trusted me._

And why was the world suddenly moving?

_Cas, I love you, why do you hurt me like this?_

Soft, cold grass.

“ _Cas_.”

 

 

Dean wasn’t sure if he was waking up or if he was dying.

He wasn’t even sure _why_ he was suddenly aware again; all he could feel was pain. Hopefully drunk him had been nice and gotten some painkillers to his bedroom before passing out.

Birds were chirping over his head.

_Birds?_

_God, these bastards are loud._

Dean made the mistake of moving his hands, trying to cover his ears.

Lord, have mercy and let him die right now.

Groaning, Dean didn’t move. At least it was still blissfully dark wherever he was. Or maybe not dark, but at least not bright.

After a few more minutes, Dean realized that he was lying on wet ground.

Did he piss himself?

The texture under his hand felt weird and after yet another few minutes, he realized that this was most certainly not his bed. Or any other bed, for that matter.

But it didn’t feel like a hardwood floor either.

It was soft, yet hard. _Very helpful, thank you brain._

Grass.

It was grass, and why the hell was he lying on grass?

 _Where_ the hell was he lying on grass?

Knowing he would regret it, Dean tentatively lifted his head and cracked one eye open, groaning his pain out into the twilight of a new morning. Because that’s what it was, apparently. Right in front of him, a stone rose from the grass.

 

_Mary Winchester_

_Beloved wife and mother_

 

“Oh God, kill me now.”

Letting his head sink down again, Dean couldn’t believe it. He’d gotten shitfaced and then drove the few kilometers to his parents’ graves? How was he still alive?

Knowing he was in no danger of falling back to sleep now that he’d woken once (and yes, it was pretty bad he knew his drunken habits so well), Dean rested his head on the soft grass once more. Just a few more minutes until the world would stop spinning.

After a while, he was at least aware enough to take inventory of himself. He was still in his damn suit, probably ruined now with grass strains, if not worse things. He could feel his wallet in his right pocket, because it was painfully pressing against his crotch, but there was no telling if the money and his credit cards were still there. Using what little strength he had, Dean slowly rolled over onto his back, getting the wallet out to check. Well, either he’d been robbed last night or he’d been drinking for an amount of about two hundred bucks. Both seemed logical at this moment.

But still: Wallet: check.

Keys? Check.

Phone?

Dean took a moment longer, but when he realized he really couldn’t feel it anywhere against his body, a sinking feeling made its way to his stomach. Fuck.

Maybe it was in the car, so Dean tried to stay calm.

He tried to remember if he’d taken it out sometime last night. He only remembered switching it off as soon as he’d stepped out of his building because it had blown up with Facebook messenger notifications from his “friends”.

_Don’t think about it now._

All he really remembered from last night was the vast amount of alcohol and that he’d made out with … two? Three strangers? Yeah, something like that.

But if he remembered correctly, it hadn’t gone far with either of them. He wasn’t sure if his inability to get hard for either of them was thanks to the alcohol or thanks to his thoughts constantly waving around Castiel. Either way, it had kept him from a big mistake, because he was pretty sure there hadn’t been condoms anywhere near those guys.

Groaning again, Dean spread out on the grass in front of his mother’s grave, his father’s directly next to it.

“I’m sorry I’m such a pathetic excuse for a son.”

He let his tears run freely, knowing his mother wouldn’t have ever seen a fault in him for expressing his emotions. But he couldn’t say anything else. At least not out loud. Instead, he talked silently to her, hoping she could hear him.

He told her all, about his job, about his friends, about Cas.

When he was done, the sun had come up over the horizon and was slowly on its way up. His tears had run try for now, he was exhausted and still in pain, his clothes were wet and all he wanted was to bury himself in his bed and sleep and forget what had happened yesterday.

Getting up slowly and trying not to lose his balance or his stomach contents, Dean saw the sun reflecting off of a smooth surface just a foot or so away from him.

His phone.

“Thank fuck for small mercies.”

It was dead, but most likely it was just the battery that had run out.

No, hang on, he’d switched it off.

Trying to start it up again, nothing happened.

“Sonofa –” his eyes fell on his mother’s headstone and he bit off his swearing. “Sorry, mom.”

Kissing his fingertips, he pressed them against her headstone, giving a curt nod to John’s, and then stumbled down the pathway to the car park. His ute was parked a bit askew, claiming two parking spots. But given the fact that he’d been shitfaced as fuck, it was still impressive. Especially after he gave her a quick once over and saw nothing out of the ordinary. He knew he had been not only stupid, but also a danger to himself and to others and he also knew he still shouldn’t be driving now. And there was no way at all he could go back to his apartment and his shitty life just yet. But the way to the docks wasn’t far, so he prayed to whatever guardian angel had been looking over him to be awake for a few more minutes, thanking the sorry bastard for doing such a splendid job last night.

Once he got there, he was careful as he stumbled down the pier. Falling into the harbor certainly wasn’t at the top of his list of things to do this morning. Inside Baby, he plugged his phone in before stumbling into the small bathroom. Two painkillers were swallowed before he got rid of his clothes and slumped under the hot spray of his shower. It was such a relief he only got out once the water started to run cold, but not before he shocked himself with ice cold water to get his circulation going again.

Still naked, only with a towel around his hips and one to dry his hair, he made his way over to his phone, trying again to switch it on. A relieved sigh left him when it came to life. With no desire to check what his friends had written him, he went to his bedroom and let it drop on the bedside table before he dropped face first onto his fluffy bed, dead to the world within seconds.

 

 

An annoying, yet very regularly and persistent beeping brought him back to the land of the living a few hours later. The whole interior of Baby was covered in a somewhat reddish light coming from the few overhead windows, so it had to be somewhere in the late afternoon.

The beeping was still not letting up and Dean finally recognized it as the messenger notification. Seemed like his friends were trying to get a hold of him.

Still not sure how to handle a conversation with any of them, Dean reached for his phone after all and checked. He had a bunch of unread messages from their group chat, number growing with every second. Seemed like there was a conversation going on. There were also numbers besides the little bubbles showing his friend’s individual faces. They’d all written him at one point. The highest number was next to Charlie’s bubble.

Just as he wanted to silence his phone, the chat switched to Charlie’s bubble, a new message just coming in.

**_[Charlie] Don’t you dare leave again! Talk to me NOW or I’ll send Cas a screenshot of what you sent me last night!_ **

_Last night?_

_What the hell?_

Suddenly, a very, very cold shudder ran down Dean’s spine as snippets of memories came back to him.

His phone in his hand.

Typing.

“No. No. NO. Nonononono.”

Hands shaking, he swung his legs out of his bed, needing to sit upright and to feel the hard wood under his feet to ground himself. He switched over to the bubble that showed Cas.

**_[Cas] Dean, please answer me, I’m worried!_ **

Ignoring the last message from Cas as well as all the messages that his friend had sent before that, he searched for the last time he’d written something in this chat. When he found it, he felt like fainting, he was so relieved. It was from yesterday morning when they’d wondered about Charlie’s announcement.

_Damnit, Charlie!_

Switching back as fast as he could with his shaking hands and jumping up to pace what little space he had, he scrolled in that chat up to his last entry.

And there it was.

**_[Dean] Cas, why would you lie to me?_ **

**_[Charlie] Dean?_ **

**_[Charlie] Oh thank God, you’re alive!_ **

**_[Dean] Cas_ **

**_[Charlie] Dean? It’s me, Charlie, you’re texting the wrong person._ **

**_[Dean] I thought you trusted me._ **

**_[Charlie] Are you drunk?_ **

**_[Dean] Cas, I love you, why do you hurt me like this?_ **

**_[Charlie] … I KNEW IT!_ **

**_[Charlie] Dean, seriously …_ **

Dean stopped reading, too shocked about what he’d written.

He sank back down on his bed, trying hard not to throw up. Whatever guardian angel had been on duty for his sorry, drunken ass last night seemed to have a sick sense of humor. Or just a very twisted way of taking revenge for making his job so hard.

At least he hadn’t texted Cas, but damn, he had no idea if Charlie was any better.

Speaking of the devil:

**_[Charlie] WINCHESTER!! I can SEE that you’re online. Answer me, goddamnit!!_ **

Swallowing, Dean finally typed out a reply.

**_[Dean] You can’t tell him! Promise me you won’t._ **

**_[Charlie] Can we skype?_ **

**_[Dean] No._ **

He could see Charlie typing after that, but when her answer took longer than a few seconds, he felt compelled to add:

**_[Dean] I’m sorry Charlie, this is all a bit much rn. I think I need a break. And I mean from everything, even Moondoor._ **

Her next text popped up just as he had sent his.

**_[Charlie] Please, Dean. I think there was a big misunderstanding! How can you even think we want you out of Moondoor? What Gabe meant was getting staff to HELP you, not to replace you. You’re part of this, you’re our friend, how could you ever think we would want to push you out? And we seriously need to talk about the Cas thing. Please, let’s skype._ **

He was just done reading, when her next comment came up, seemingly an answer to his previous text.

**_[Charlie] Oh HELL NO! Not because of last night! Let’s talk about this, it’s all a stupid misunderstanding. Dean, PLEASE_ **

Not being able to think straight, but also realizing how stupid he’d been for having so little trust in his friends, Dean got up, shooting a last text to Charlie.

**_[Dean] Gimme a sec_ **

While his laptop started, Dean got decent and also got himself a bowl of breakfast cereal and a big glass of water. He wasn’t even online for five seconds before Charlie’s call came.

“Don’t you _ever_ do that again, you hear me!”

There were fresh tears in Charlie’s already red eyes and if Dean hadn’t felt like shit before, he certainly did now.

“Do you have any idea how worried we were? What a shit move was that? We tried to reach you for _hours_. Do you have any idea how it feels not to be able to reach someone and fearing they’re doing something stupid? We couldn’t even just drive over to your house to check on you because you’re eight fucking thousand miles away from us. Did you even think about that for one second? We were already planning on getting a plane ticket so at least one of us could check on you and –”

“Charlie,” Dean finally whispered pleadingly, bringing her rant to a halt immediately. Looking at the girl that was his little sister in so many ways, he couldn’t help the single tear that slipped down his face. “I’m so sorry.”

Tears streaming freely, Dean could see how the anger drained out of Charlie. What was left was raw emotions on her face as she pleaded once more, “Don’t ever do that again.”

“I won’t, I promise. I’m so sorry, I don’t even know what got into me.”

“I’m sorry as well for how I pushed you. Once you left, we realized how it must have sounded to you. Dean, we’re so sorry. Gabe is beating himself up for phrasing it like that.”

“No, it’s not his fault. I had a shit week at work and … I don’t know, it was all so much suddenly and then that comment … and then Cas …”

Cas, who had lied to him. Maybe he had misunderstood what Gabriel had tried to say, but there was no denying what Cas had done.

And it still hurt like it did last night.

Looking back up once he realized that Charlie’d been quiet for a while, he was met with an imploring gaze. “Did you really mean it? What you texted me last night and what I guess was meant for Cas?”

Closing his eyes, Dean nodded once before letting his head sink into his hands. He didn’t know if he felt relieved for finally sharing his secret with at least one person, or if he felt on edge, worried about what Charlie would do with this information.

“You should talk to him.”

Huffing in disbelief, Dean looked at the wall with all the pictures. His eyes lingered on the one that showed Cas, a beautiful black and white close up of the man’s face, sunglasses reflecting and his lips parted in one of his stunning smiles.

“Dean, I’m serious. You think Gabe and I freaked and beat ourselves up? What do you think how Cas’ is feeling?”

“He lied to me,” Dean breathed out. There was no anger or malice left in him, just pain, raw and simple pain. “He doesn’t trust me anymore. If he ever did.”

“Stop. Dean, seriously, stop.”

Dean fell quiet, waiting for what Charlie had to say.

“I know you’ve asked him countless times for the reason. But I’m begging you: Ask him one more time.”

“What’s the difference?”

“You’ll see.”

He didn’t have the power anymore to protest or to question Charlie. He felt like he needed more sleep, even though he’d slept the whole day.

“Please, Dean. Just call him. He’s so worried for you. He only napped a few minutes here and there, laptop always open and next to him in case you contacted him. He’s dead on his feet but refusing to go to bed.”

A new wave of guilt washed over Dean. “Did you tell them we’re talking?”

“I wrote them you finally reacted to me, yes. Gabe trusts me to handle everything. He went to bed so at least one of us can get up early in the morning to get everything ready.” Her comment confused Dean for a moment, until it all came crashing back: the LARP event. That was tomorrow. Oh fuck. “It’s okay, don’t worry. We have it all handled,” Charlie was quick to reassure him, his face most likely giving away his devastation. “But Cas is still awake, waiting if maybe you’ll call him. I need to go to bed soon as well, but I’m pretty sure Cas won’t join us, at least not tomorrow.”

When a soft whimper fell off Dean’s lips, Charlie gave him a soft smile. “Talk to him, please.”

Nodding at last, the two friends said their goodbyes before the call ended. Taking a minute to shoot a quick message to Gabriel with a big sorry and the promise to talk after the LARP event, Dean took three deep breaths before calling Cas at last.

It took a few rings before the call was answered, but when the connection was finally there, the window stayed black. Irritated, Dean hesitated for a second before asking with a tentative “Cas?”

“I’m here,” came the reply, and even without a visual, Dean knew his friend had been crying, his voice so raw.

Closing his eyes and swallowing fresh tears, he wished he could just make Cas’ pain go away. But seeing how he was the reason for this pain, he wasn’t so sure he would succeed.

“I’m sorry. Cas, I am so, _so sorry_. That was the most stupid thing I’ve ever done and I am so sorry you suffered.”

There was no reply, only a sniffle that told him that Cas was either still crying or had just started to cry again. _Fuck you, Winchester. Can you do nothing right?_

“Please. Please Cas, don’t cry. I’m not worth a single one of your tears.”

“You’re worth everything.”

The whisper was so soft Dean wasn’t sure he’d really just heard it. Staring blankly at the black window and waiting for more, he realized for the first time that while he couldn’t see Cas, Cas still could see him. The little square in the bottom corner that showed himself gave proof to that. With a pleading gaze, Dean half reached for the screen – for Cas.

“Cas, please. I know I have no right to plead for anything after what I’ve done to you. But please let’s talk about this. Please let me see you.”

“I was so scared,” came the reply, the screen staying black.

Closing his eyes once more, Dean tried to control his feelings. His own heart hurt enough already, but Cas’ pain was so much worse.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I was hurt, I …” Taking a few quick breaths, he tried to find the right words. “I felt so betrayed. I know it’s no excuse, but …” This was so damn hard. “I just hope you can forgive me.”

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” Cas admitted, tears so clear in his voice.

Dean wanted to tell him it was okay, that he didn’t have to tell him anything. But that would’ve been the next lie and he just couldn’t do it.

Suddenly, Cas’ video came to life. The short flicker of hope Dean felt about it was distinguished right away as a startled yelp left the man’s mouth and a hand covered the camera.

“Oh, this is ridiculous, Castiel.”

Charlie’s voice in this moment was so surreal Dean couldn’t even find words and only gape at her little square.

“What the heck, Charlie?” Cas growled. “What … How …?”

“Please. You should know I can hack myself inside your chat.”

“Yeah, but why would you do that?” Dean asked, finding his voice again.

“And why would you switch on my camera. This is creepy as fuck.”

“I’m sorry, I promise this is the first and hopefully the only time I have to do something like this. But you two need to talk –”

“Which is exactly what we were just doing,” Dean interrupted, only to be scolded with a piercing gaze. Hell, Charlie could be a spitfire.

“I meant _really talk_! About what you accidentally texted me last night, Dean –”

“Charlie!”

“– and what I’ve known about you for years now, Castiel.”

“ _Charlie_ ,” Cas’ admonishment sounded more like whining than anything else.

“I mean it guys. I’m not going to say it for you, but by God, don’t force me to come back here to actually do it. Stay, talk, be honest about what you feel for each other for the first time. Peace out.”

Before either of them could react, Charlie’s video chat window vanished as quickly as it had appeared and all that was left was the semi black screen where Cas was still covering the camera with his hand and the little square that showed how Dean was staring at the screen with a dumbfounded expression. He could feel the heat crawling up his neck and he wished for nothing more than to be able to disappear. Or for Cas to take his hand away and let Dean see him.

_This couldn’t be true, right?_

Charlie hadn’t explicitly said it, but he would have to be the biggest moron not to get what she was implying. He could hear heavy breathing and his brain needed a moment to realize that it came from both of them.

At long last, Cas’ hand disappeared.

How long they were staring at each other, Dean couldn’t tell. He felt like he was seeing Cas for the first time. This man, this wonderful man that he had had a crush on since forever … and he was returning his feelings?

It was Cas who found his voice first.

“Is … is it true? What I think Charlie was implying?”

Dean could’ve lied. He could’ve lied, laughed about it, and told Cas that Charlie was nuts. He almost did, scared beyond reason about being rejected. But Cas looked so scared himself. So vulnerable that Dean just knew, beyond any doubt, that their friend hadn’t pulled a prank on them.

“Yes,” he choked out and the smile that spread across Cas’ face told him he owed Charlie the world. “And … and you? What about …?”

“Oh Dean. I’ve been falling for you for so long now.”

Hearing it, actually hearing it – there were no words to describe how Dean felt in that moment. Without his conscious thought, his hand wandered to the screen, touching where he saw Castiel’s beautiful blue eyes, red rimmed and still awash with tears. He knew Cas couldn’t see his hand, knew it was outside the reach of the camera, but still. When he saw Cas’ hand move towards his own screen, he knew he was mirroring Dean’s gesture. It didn’t matter that this was no window and that they couldn’t see the other ones’ hand. He knew that in this moment their hands were almost touching.

 

 

After that, they probably would’ve talked for hours. But Cas’ lack of sleep was affecting him more than either of them wished for. When he refused a second time to lie down, Dean took his laptop and went to his own bedroom, positioning the laptop on the bedside table so he could still see the screen as he lay down.

“What are you doing?”

“Come on Cas,” Dean replied in lieu of a direct answer. “Lie down with me and let’s sleep together.” He wasn’t tired anymore, not one bit. The adrenaline that came from his newfound knowledge was pumping high in his system. But for Cas, he could lie quietly for a while until the other man had drifted off to a peaceful sleep.

“But don’t … don’t you think we should talk about this?” Castiel’s question was interrupted by a drawn out yawn. He was hardly able to keep his eyes open.

Smiling fondly at him, Dean laid his head on the fluffy pillow. “Of course we should. In the morning, once you’re awake enough to actually participate in this conversation.”

At that, Cas had to grin and finally gave in. Taking his own laptop, Dean saw how he made his way through his house: from his office up the stairs and to his bedroom. It wasn’t the first time Dean had seen it during a skype chat.

Putting the laptop down on the bedside table as well, Cas got ready for bed off camera. Dean didn’t mind. He certainly hadn’t had anything like that on his mind when he’d told Cas to lie down with him. Moments later, he saw the blankets move as Cas was lying down on his own pillow, eyes almost closed but focused on Dean again.

“What was it? What you accidentally texted Charlie last night?”

Studying Cas’ face, Dean wasn’t sure if a confession just like his wasn’t a bit too fast. But no. Cas had suffered so much at his hands in the last few hours, he deserved to know the truth.

“I thought I was texting you. And … I told you that I love you.”

Cas’ eyes snapped wide open for a moment before his whole face lit up. “That’s good,” he replied, snuggling deeper into his pillow while another yawn interrupted him. “Because I love you too.”

Dean had no idea how, but as he watched Cas slowly drift over into the land of dreams, he swore to himself that no matter what, they would make this work.


	4. Chapter 4

“So, when did you fall in love with me?”

Smiling, Dean flipped the pancakes in the pan on his little stove, before turning back to the laptop, positioned on the counter. Cas, still in bed and sporting an enormous bedhead, but with a tray on his knees full of delicious looking pancakes, maple syrup, and strawberries, was munching happily on his breakfast. Or lunch rather, seeing how it was almost eleven in the morning for him. But he’d needed the sleep and Dean didn’t mind. He’d been up hours after Cas had fallen asleep, just watching the man he was in love with, eventually falling asleep himself. He’d woken up to clear blue eyes watching him and a soft, content smile on those lips he wanted to taste more than anything.

“Depends which stage of ‘in love’ we’re talking about.”

“Oh?”

A bit of syrup was stuck on Cas’ lips and Dean couldn’t believe how his body reacted to the sight of that. Distracting himself, he added the last pancake to his stack and carried the plate to the already set table before getting the laptop as well, positioning it so it looked as if Cas was sitting across from him, sharing a perfect Sunday (well, Saturday for Cas) breakfast of pancakes.

After his first bite, he finally explained. “The first time I fell in love with you, it was with your writing, as you might have guessed.”

“Really now? I had no clue.”

Squinting at the man, Dean couldn’t keep it up for too long as Cas let out a peal of laughter.

“Very funny. Anyway. What you probably don’t know is that we’ve actually met in person once.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Now it was his turn to crow with mirth at Cas’ stupid expression. After a few more bites, he finally told the story. How he had been in the audience when Cas had his first and only ever book reading in Melbourne. How he’d fallen in love with the dark voice and the way Cas brought his own characters to life. How Dean had stood in line afterwards, thinking about something – _anything_ – witty to say for that moment when they would meet for just a few seconds. How he had said literally _nothing_ when the moment had finally come, just smiling stupidly like a lovesick fool. How it had been over after just a quick signature of _Castiel Novak_ and a killer smile that had made his knees weak and how afterwards he’d been drunk with joy and also a bit of embarrassment.

“How the hell come you’ve _never_ told me this before?” Thankfully, Cas sounded more amused and a bit awed than maybe being pissed at Dean for keeping a secret himself.

“I don’t know,” Dean said, grinning fondly about the memory. “At first it felt weird and then later on … don’t know. Maybe I just didn’t want you to know just _how much_ of a fangirl I was.”

“As if your behavior didn’t give you away right after you found out.”

Squinting once more, Dean soon joined in the laughter. “Yeah, alright, fair enough.” Getting up to put his breakfast stuff in the sink, he got himself another glass of milk. “Anyway. So that was my crush on you as an author and a hot dude. Then I got to know you and … I can’t even pin point it. It’s not like I woke up one day and thought: Damn, I’m in love with Cas. It was more of a slow growing thing, you know?”

“Yeah, I actually know exactly what you mean. I think a first sign for me was when I trusted you with my work. Not that I was in love, I mean,” Cas threw in when Dean’s eyes went wide. Because that seriously had been _years_ ago. “But the fact that I trusted you? For me it was a clear sign you meant more to me, that you’d become a close friend even though we’d never met. Then we started to talk more and more and, I don’t know either. Somewhere along the way …”

“It just happened,” Dean finished for him and Cas only nodded, before going back to talking.

“I think one of the early signs was this pang of jealousy that got stronger each time I knew you went out and told me about your conquests the next morning.” Huffing a laugh, Cas sipped on his water. “At first I thought I was jealous because I hardly ever got laid, but after a while I realized that wasn’t the case. And then …”

“Then what?” Dean prompted when Cas took a few moments too long to think of how to continue.

“Then I realized that Bruce had started to resemble you more and more.”

At that, Dean’s eyes went wide once more. “What now?”

“You seriously haven’t noticed, have you?” Cas replied, huffing a laugh in fond disbelief. “The way he talks, the dirty jokes, his mannerisms, and his tough as nails on the outside but softie on the inside attitude, none of that rings a bell? Or the way he cares for his friends, how he feels responsible for everything, how he cares for his damn car that he calls Baby? Seriously, nothing, Dean?”

Dean could feel how heat rose up his neck and his cheeks started to color. “Well, I did get the part with Baby …”

Throwing his head back, Cas let out a throaty laugh.

“Wait,” Dean continued. “Is _that_ the reason for your writer’s block? Am _I_ –”

“Yes and no. I mean, it was part of it. You know how Jimmy has become me in so many ways over the years. And then with Bruce so much like you … how could I write them a happy ending when … when we …”

There was a moment of silence between them before Dean reached towards the screen – towards Cas – like he’d done last night.

“But now we … we are … aren’t we?” He asked, a bit afraid of the answer to a question he couldn’t even really form.

The soft smile on Cas’ lips calmed his nerves. “I would like that, Dean. Whatever you were just implying.”

Chuckling nervously, Dean felt his cheeks redden anew as he rubbed his neck, hanging his head just slightly. When he looked back up, Cas’ blue gaze was still on him, full of warmth and love. It was actually the same gaze he’d given Dean so very often over the past years, but only now Dean knew how to really name it.

“A long distance relationship?”

As Cas’ smile spread impossibly wider in answer, Dean could feel his heart almost burst with joy.

 

 

The next few days could be counted as the best of Dean’s life.

If he really thought about it, not much had changed in the way Cas and he behaved: They still chatted for hours, still texted over the day, still talked about work and friends and life. The only real difference now was that neither of them had to hide their affection for the other. And that they fell asleep and woke up with their skype calls still connected.

Neither of them was naïve, of course. They both knew it wouldn’t be as easy like this for forever. But they were at least honest with each other and the fact alone that neither of them had any desire for other sexual partners at all and hadn’t had in a long time spoke volumes. Neither of them was shy either, but getting naked in front of the camera, in front of each other, felt a bit too weird, at least for Cas. After years and years of being “just” best friends, he needed a bit longer to get to this next stage. Most likely, it would have been different had they been in a real physical relationship. But being intimate over the internet … he just needed time for that and Dean had no problem giving him this time.

Their newfound status as a couple had the very welcome side effect that Castiel’s writer’s block seemed to have vanished. Only three days after getting together, Dean woke up to the clicking of a keyboard, Castiel deep in his own world, letting Bruce’s past come to life. It was the sound Dean had woken up to every morning since then and it never failed to make him smile.

On Friday evening, Dean asked Cas to get his favorite takeout around midnight and then drive to the beach with his laptop. When their skype call connected once more, Dean made sure Cas saw that he was on Baby, moving over the water.

“What are you doing?” Cas asked as he spread out on the sand, the sound of waves coming from both sides of their connection.

“Taking you out on a date on my Baby,” Dean replied, winking as he steered her into a deserted bay. “You wanna have dinner first, Sweetheart, or a dive in the ocean?”

It wasn’t much they could do together, hardly anything they could _really_ do together. But what they could, they did. It was beautiful, it was comfortable and romantic – but it was never really enough.

Dean’s biggest wish had always been to be able to tell Cas how he really felt and have those feelings returned. He’d been pining over this man for years – only to realize that the pining now was almost harder to bear. They were finally together, but couldn’t be _really_ together. He was finally allowed to touch and kiss and feel – but he couldn’t.

Talking to Cas nowadays, openly telling him that he loved him and hearing it in return whenever he wanted, watching the man fall asleep and waking to Cas watching him with so much love in his eyes … for the first time, Dean found himself questioning his choices in life. Not his choices regarding Cas, of course. But his choices regarding his job.

Garth Fitzgerald IV. had been thrilled about the LARP event and had confirmed his offer before the weekend was over. The four friends knew they wanted to do this – the question was just how. His job at “Zachariah Architecture” was still as soulless as ever and when he watched Cas fall asleep this weekend after their Moondoor-session and Charlie and Gabe gushing over them for almost the whole time, an unbidden thought came to him for the first time: _Could I really quit my job, my family’s business, my life here in Australia – all for him?_ When his heart and soul immediately screamed _hell yes!_ he frightened himself so badly for a moment he needed a shot of whiskey to calm down.

But once the thought was there, it wouldn’t leave him.

It kept him distracted for the better part of the following week and the only reason Cas didn’t seem to realize was because his deadline was creeping closer and closer. At least Dean got the first chapters to distract him from the turmoil that was his thoughts.

 

 

Two weeks after the beginning of their relationship, Dean woke up in the fluffy bedding on Baby, the ever present keyboard clicking telling him right away that Cas was there. Warmth instantly spread through his whole body and he kept his eyes closed for a while, just listening to Cas’ typing.

“Would you say Bruce’s a bottom or a top?”

Sitting up so fast he almost hit his head on the low ceiling, Dean swiveled around to look at Cas. The guy was still looking to the side where Dean knew his open document was on his second screen, his hands still flying over the keyboard. Had Dean just imagined the question? Was he so sex-starved he’d just thought his boyfriend had asked him about his fictional character’s sex preference?

“Or do you think they’d switch?”

There, he’d seen Cas’ lips move and words definitely came out of his mouth. So not his imagination.

“Ehm …” Swallowing hard, Dean had no idea what to say.

The clicking of keys stopped and he found his boyfriend’s gaze on him, a badly concealed mischievous grin on his lips. “Personally, I think Jimmy likes it either way.”

_Fuck, has Cas’ voice always been so low?_

“But I’m not so sure about Bruce.”

_I’m pretty sure I’m going to burst if you keep going._

“What’re your thoughts on the topic?”

_That it’s getting pretty hot in here._

“Is Bruce into switching …”

Dean could only swallow.

“ … a strict bottom …”

Heavy breathing.

“… or a top?”

“ _Jesus, Cas._ ”

By now, Cas didn’t even try to conceal his grin. There was a spark in his eyes as he slowly let his chair roll back, got up and started to strip. Except for the few seconds he needed to get his shirt over his head, his eyes never left Dean’s.

Dean couldn’t get enough of what he saw. Inch by inch he was finally allowed to see the wonderful body he wanted to hold so badly, his fingers itching to reach for him, to touch, to caress, to simply _feel_. Hipbones he wanted to run his tongue over, a flat stomach and a well formed chest that begged for his attention, arms only slightly muscly, just enough to let him know Cas really did work out. When the shirt was gone, Cas bit his lip, shy and hesitating. God, Dean wanted to taste those pink lips so badly it actually, physically hurt. A moment later, Cas’ hands found their way to the waistband of his sweatpants and ever so slowly, he let them fall down his strong runner’s legs.

A small whimper escaped Dean. He had no idea how or when his own hand had wandered into his boxer shorts, slowly smoothing up and down his cock which was rock hard by now. The moment Cas was exposed, a groan was ripped from Dean’s throat and his member twitched, begging for more attention.

“God, you’re so gorgeous and hot and … fuck, I want to be there right now.”

Smiling at that, Cas sat down again but leaned back in his seat so Dean was still able to see him fully on display. He thought he was just about to die as Cas’ hands started dancing over his own body, one stopping once it had reached a nipple to play with, the other one continuing its way down south. Dean’s breath hitched as Cas’ hand had just reached the trail of dark hair. But suddenly it stopped, just idly caressing his stomach instead. Dean let out another soft whimper.

“Dean.”

It took him a second to realize that Cas wanted his attention – not the one he already had, but Dean’s eyes actually back up on his face. It was hard, really, really hard, but he pulled his gaze away from that delicious looking cock and looked back into Cas’ eyes.

“Get the fuck naked.”

There was no hesitation for Dean to follow that order and he would leave the teasing for another time, all but ripping his clothes off and lying back down, head angled so he’d be able to see Cas. His boyfriend had gripped himself at some point while Dean was fighting with his clothing and was giving himself long, hard strokes, moaning sinfully.

The only talking that was done after that was instructions for the other now and then where to touch or little snippets of “If I were with you right now, I would …” The rest was moaning and groaning, imagined touches and kisses. Having waited years for this, it wasn’t long before both of them reached their high, tumbling over almost together.

When he came, Dean tried to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss a single moment of Cas in this state of ecstasy. He was gorgeous. And sexy. And so damn freaking hot. And fuck, Dean wanted to be there. With him. Why the hell was he still here? What even kept him here in Melbourne? The short burst of melancholia was washed away when Cas tumbled over the edge just seconds later, eyes closed shut and mouth wide open with a groan and Dean’s name on his lips.

Both panting heavily and lying still for a moment, just enjoying the afterglow, their gazes found each other again and euphoric laughter bubbled up from both of them.

“That was fucking amazing,” Cas said, sending Dean into a fit of laughter because he usually never swore. It turned into a full belly laugh when the man added: “But you never actually answered my damn question. This isn’t funny, Dean. Damn, I need to write this sex scene now.”

Almost falling out of bed as his laughter turned to guffaws, Dean pressed a kiss against the camera and gave his boyfriend a wink, before strolling off to his shower to start with the rest of the day.

 

 

Dean was on a high after that at the beginning of the new work week. They’d stayed naked for the rest of their weekend, only getting dressed when it was time for Moondoor. Even though he didn’t have the full quality and power on his laptop as he did on his computer system in the apartment, Dean decided to just stay on Baby on Sunday, his desire to return to his sad little room becoming less and less.

There were so many things, little ones and big ones that made Dean question time and again: _Why am I still here?_ He was still asking himself that question when Adler called for an unexpected meeting shortly before it was time to go home on Monday.

“My friends.” Dean was only barely able to keep his eyes from rolling. “I have an announcement to make. Our dear friend Uriel will leave us by the end of this month.”

Instantly, murmuring started in the whole open office space, but Dean didn’t pay much attention to his colleagues. His eyes found Cain, wondering if his friend had fucked with him and the “better offer” was actually just a higher position. Seeing the confused face, he knew that wasn’t the case. Which meant –

“Yes, the position is currently still open,” Adler continued, getting everybody’s attention once more. “And I now have a big surprise for all of you.” Pausing for effect, Adler sent all of them a sweet smile as if he was handing out candy to children. He was definitely one of these creepy dudes parents warned their children about. “Instead of hiring someone new, we’ll fill this position internally.”

There was a bout of cheering and Adler was benevolent enough to let it go on for a minute. Then he calmed everybody down. “Now, for two weeks, I want you all to show me you’re worth it. Nothing is decided yet, right now it could be either of you,” _yeah, highly believable,_ “so you all better give your best. As I hope you always do. Now chop-chop, I don’t wanna keep you after hours.”

After twelve years, Dean was finally able to get the position he deserved in this firm. It wasn’t even about the money – his wage wasn’t the best, but it was decent and given his lifestyle and how his money went into nothing more but his Baby and some upgrades in the electronic department, he’d actually gathered a little fortune over the years. No, it wasn’t about the money; it was about respect and what he deserved and his family’s name. He finally had a chance, and he would damn well take it.

 

 

Despite what this new position would mean for them and the future of Moondoor, his friends were thrilled for him once Dean told them. Especially Cas was so happy, Dean couldn’t even bring himself to admit that just minutes before Adler had announced the possibility, Dean had seriously played with the thought of giving up everything and moving to America.

“I can’t believe he’s actually waited this long to promote you,” Cas was saying now, already lying in bed. His boyfriend’s sleeping schedule had drastically changed since the beginning of their relationship and also since his muse was back. More often than not the two of them would fall asleep at almost the same time – Dean around eleven at night his time, which was around four in the morning for Cas. But the writer didn’t seem to mind. “I write the best stuff late at night,” he reassured Dean every time he worried for his boyfriend’s health. On the other hand, Cas slept the same amount of time as before, sometimes only minutes up before Dean. Last Friday, he’d even had to wake Cas, getting to see the sleepy grumpy cat again that his boyfriend tended to be when just woken up.

“I don’t actually have the promotion yet,” Dean reminded him, getting out of his sweatpants and under his fluffy blankets. They were completely fresh from the laundry. After work, Dean had made a quick trip to his apartment for two loads of laundry, filling up his Baby on comfy clothes, towels, and linen. He’d also gotten his suits from the drycleaner, keeping a bigger stash here now than in his apartment, and some more groceries. Once he had the new position, maybe he should seriously look for a new apartment. The shithole he had? Who even lived like that?

When he realized that Cas hadn’t answered, he looked at his boyfriend who only smiled back at him with a dream like gaze.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

Grin widening, Cas simply pulled his shirt over his head, making Dean chuckle. Since their foray into “skype-sex” Saturday morning, Cas was insatiable. Not that Dean was complaining, but he had to admit that even though it was amazing, it also always left a hollow feeling in his chest. He’d never thought of himself as a cuddler. Yet with Cas, he knew he wanted more. He wanted to pull him into his arms and just cuddle up while they both caught their breath after another round of amazing sex. He wanted to kiss him good night and good morning. He wanted to simply lie next to him and hold him, without it necessarily leading to sex. He just wanted Cas.

Not thinking about how he could have him if Dean just relinquished any possible promotion and quit his job, he got naked as well, enjoying what they had without thinking about any tomorrow.

 

 

Even though he was putting more of himself into work than ever before, Dean still found the time to read Castiel’s draft before it was due that Friday (Cas’ time).

It was amazing as it was now.

Only a good two-thirds was fully written, the rest of what was supposed to happen outlined, but it hit Crowley’s requirements for how long the first draft had to be. Dean was confident that Cas would be able to let the whole series end with a happy, yet with a totally manly and absolutely not sappy finale.

“What’s not manly about being sappy?” asked Charlie, sipping on her champagne. The friends had a conference call going on, all of them sipping on various sorts of champagne to celebrate the end of an era. “Ghostfacers” had been with them from the beginning of their friendship. To celebrate the day, Dean had brought Baby back to the secret bay he’d been to for their first date. He was currently lying on the deck, enjoying the sun, while his friends were together on the beach, watching a beautiful sunset that Dean could see as well, thanks to different camera angles.

“Oh, come on,” Dean exclaimed. “Can you really see Jimmy and Bruce, driving into the sunset in Baby, holding hands and all that?”

“Well, I can see you and Cas sailing into the sunset on Baby, so yes,” Charlie replied with a grin, having Gabe in stitches. “I hope that’s not your definition of sappy, ‘cause if it is, you’re the biggest sap I know.”

“Shut up,” Dean replied, sipping on his own champagne … in a very manly way, thank you very much. His friends were laughing and he joined in, just enjoying the lazy time together.

His first week of ‘The Trials’, as his friends had named the two weeks until the promotion was announced, had been fantastic. He’d finally taken to locking away his stuff whenever he wasn’t at his desk, making sure none of his ideas could be stolen again. On Thursday a very important client had picked his blueprint instead of the ones from Inias and or Michael, the two men he counted as his strongest opponents, and he counted it as a win. There was another project due next Friday and if Dean’s was picked again, Adler honestly had no other choice but to give the promotion to him.

Following his success on Thursday, Dean had even started to look into houses here in Melbourne. He certainly had the money to get a little place in one of the nicer suburbs. Life was good right now. Maybe not perfect, but certainly good.

 

 

Thursday night, Dean was a mess.

“What if my idea isn’t picked and Adler decides against me? What if someone steals my ideas again? What if –”

“Dean, calm down,” Cas ordered, bringing his boyfriend’s rambling to a halt, but unable to halt his pacing. “You know you’ll get it, you’re –”

“Yeah, but what if not? Cas, what then?”

“Then you’ll continue working as hard as you always did. Dean, stop it now, it’ll be fine.”

Forcing himself to calm down, Dean stopped and sat down at the table. He’d actually already been in bed, but he’d been way too nervous to sleep. It was the first time that seeing Cas naked hadn’t put him in the mood and on top of everything else, he felt bad for that. Cas, shirt and sweatpants back in place, was more than understanding. For half an hour now, he’d tried to calm his boyfriend down.

There was a tension filled silence between them for a moment before Dean forced out what else was on his mind. “And what if I get the promotion? What then?”

Cas’ inquiring gaze bore into him. “What are you talking about?”

Sighing, Dean wished for a shot of whiskey to calm him, but he wasn’t going to risk it, seeing how important tomorrow was. “Cas, I wanna be with you. I mean, I love what we have right now, but I want so much more. I want …”

He couldn’t put into words what all he wanted. He wanted Cas. He wanted him in every way possible. He wanted a future with him. But how could he, when there was a whole friggin’ ocean between them? Sighing in frustration, he let his head hang, his hand furiously rubbing his neck to relieve some of the tension building there.

As it seemed, there was no need for him to put all this into words. “I know,” Cas replied after a moment. “And I want all that as well. Which is why I’ll move to Melbourne.”

Almost banging his head against the table as he lost his balance, Dean’s head snapped back up to the screen. “ _WHAT?_ ”

There was a loving smile on Cas’ lips and he chuckled softly about his boyfriend’s reaction, before explaining. “I’m an author, Dean. I can write everywhere I freaking want to. So I talked it through with Crowley. He’s not pleased, but he can go to hell for all I care.” Leaning in, Cas made it very clear he was serious about what he said. “I want to be with you Dean, just as much as I know you want to be with me. So after my book tour is over, I thought I’d come and visit you and we’ll see if we work as well when we’re actually in the same hemisphere. If that’s the case, then I’ll start packing up my life here and move. Unless … of course you don’t want me to?”

His voice had grown less confident towards the end, his face showing signs of worry. It wasn’t until Cas had stopped talking that Dean realized he was just gaping at him and, damn, were there tears running down his own face?

Wiping them away, he still couldn’t help looking flabbergasted at his boyfriend. “Are you serious? You would do that? For me? For _us_?”

Only nodding, Cas looked a bit worried, but Dean could tell it was more about his own reaction than about Cas’ resolution. How did he even deserve this man?

“I must have done something right in my life for deserving you. God, I love you so much.”

Cas’ smile was back in full force and Dean would have given his right hand for being with the man in this moment to kiss that smile.

“So you’re happy about my idea?”

“Do you seriously have to ask? I would have never asked you to, but …”

“But?” Cas prompted when Dean was too shy to continue.

Blushing only slightly, Dean grinned at Cas. “I didn’t tell you, but: last week after my first success – the new shopping mall, remember? Anyway, after that, I went online to look for houses –”

“Oh, Dean. That’s fantastic,” Cas threw in, so elated about his admission Dean had to chuckle.

“Yeah, and … I don’t know, but without really wanting to I even tried to make sure … well, that there would be awesome rooms for you to turn into a great space for writing.” His ears were so hot by now it almost hurt. “I mean, not that I expected you to or anything. And I would never ask this of you, but …”

Cas was grinning so wide Dean couldn’t continue talking, mesmerized by his boyfriend’s joy.

“I know that Dean. Which is why it feels even more right to do it. I love you so much and I think I’m at a point in my life where I can just make this move. Sure, there are people and things and places here I’ll miss, but …” There was so much honesty in his eyes Dean could hardly breathe. “But you’re so worth it.”

For a few minutes, they simply smiled at each other, basking in the feelings they shared. They both knew there was still a slight chance they wouldn’t actually work when meeting in real life, but neither of them thought that was likely. What they’d built over the past years was beyond a mutual attraction. It was a deep, deep friendship and they both knew their feelings to be true. The fact that their actual relationship was still so new didn’t change that.

Even though it was late, even for Dean, they still ended up looking at some of the houses Dean had found. They hoped some of them would still be up for sale when Cas would be able to come and visit.

It was after one in the morning when Dean finally fell asleep, a happy smile on his lips, knowing that in about three months’ time, he would finally be able to hold Cas for the first time.


	5. Chapter 5

“My friends, the moment you’ve all been waiting for has come.”

Dean was shaking slightly from nerves as he felt a hand land on his shoulder and gave Cain a small grin that his friend answered with a confident nod. The presentation that morning had been good and even though the client hadn’t yet chosen which blueprint he would take in the end, Dean’s was one of the close choices, while Inias’ and Michael’s hadn’t been considered any further. That meant at least one to him and zero to them. He was going to get this promotion and next week he’d be looking at some of the available houses and then once Cas’ book tour was over he’d come down here. Three more months and he would finally be able to hold him. Life was good. Not yet perfect, but it was getting there.

“After thorough consideration and many advisory discussions with Metatron, Raphael, and Uriel, we have come to the conclusion that there’s really just one obvious choice for us. Although all of you have done a brilliant job, as you always do, this one person has clearly stood out. And I mean not just these past two weeks, but for a long while now.”

Finally. They finally acknowledged Dean’s worth and even though he didn’t need Adler’s praise, it still felt good to finally hear it after twelve years.

“So, please, all of you. Raise your glasses to welcome the new head architect in our team: Inias McMorran.”

Subdued applause rose as Inias made his way to the little platform Adler and the other head architects were standing on. Dean could hardly hear it as ringing started in his ears. At that moment, Cain’s strong, almost painful grip was the only thing that kept him in the present and also prevented him from fainting or throwing up or punching someone in the face.

_How?_

_How was this possible?_

“Don’t, Dean,” he heard Cain’s voice low in his ear. “Don’t think about a reason. There’s none, you know that.” Cain’s voice droned on, keeping him from going insane as he had to watch Inias shake hands with everyone on the platform before waving and even giving a little speech. That fucker was standing in the place Dean deserved. What had he done for the company so far? Nothing. He hadn’t even been here for a year. The guy was fresh out of college with some fancy degree but no talent to speak of.

Cain was right; there was absolutely no reason for this little shit to get a promotion before Dean did. No reason other than maybe his last name and the fact that his father was a Member of Parliament. Well, scratch that _maybe_ , Dean was pretty sure that was Adler’s sole reason.

Fuck that. Fuck Adler. Fuck this company.

_Your mom’s soul has long left the place._

Cain’s words from a few weeks ago came crashing back to him as if the man had just whispered them into his ear once more.

He had no idea how much longer they had to stand there, listening to Inias and Adler droning on and on about how awesome they were. Once he felt Cain steer him to his place, he followed his friend willingly.

“Dean, did you even get one of the things I just said?”

Cain’s blue eyes were on him and full of concern.

Blue like the ocean between him and where he really wanted to be.

Blue almost like Cas’ and yet so different.

_Cas._

“To be honest: no. But you were right with at least one thing.” With that, Dean got up and straightened his suit before putting both hands on his friend’s shoulders. “There’s nothing left of my mom’s soul here anymore.”

He ignored his friend’s baffled question as he made his way over to Zachariah Adler’s office. Not carrying to even knock, he pushed the door open and entered.

“Dean?” Adler inquired, looking startled by his brisk entrance. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Cut it out, Adler.”

“Excuse me?”

Putting both hands on the desk, Dean leaned over it just enough to be able to stare the man down. “What was this shit about, huh?”

“I don’t know –”

“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Just like you know exactly that it was my turn for a promotion.”

“Dean,” Adler replied and his tone actually made Dean stop. It was the way you would talk to a petulant child: sweet and all smiles, but with a reprimanding undertone. “Dean, Dean, Dean. Do you really think that?”

Dean only stared harder in turn, not giving in to the man’s mind games.

“Oh, Dean.”

Leaning back in his pompous ass chair, Adler actually _tsked_ and scrutinized him for a few silent seconds. Straightening up, Dean tried to still loom over the desk and not letting it show how much this man pissed him off.

“Do you really think you’re so much better? With no real education? No degree? And most of all: no talent?”

At that, Dean could feel a vein in his temple starting to tick. He clenched his jaw so hard it hurt. But he would not give into the man baiting him.

“No talent, huh? Then how come your head architects frequently seem to need to … _borrow_ my ideas?”

“Oh, Dean,” there was this _tsking_ again and Dean’s hands balled into fists as he tried to stay calm. “Now you should know that collaboration is completely normal in a big office like mine. If you can’t live with that, maybe you’re wrong here.”

“You know exactly it’s not collaboration if my name never gets mentioned.”

“I seriously hope you’re not implying what I think you want to imply,” Adler responded, a bit more force behind his words as he leaned forward. “And I know you don’t want to make a big deal of this and bring a bad reputation to the business by spreading such lies, now do you?”

He couldn’t even answer so pissed was he right now. The man really had known all along, there was no doubt left in his eyes.

“Besides,” Adler went on. “You also know you can count yourself lucky. Who else would take a guy like you with no real talent or education? And since I’m in such a good mood today, I’ll do you another favor and we’ll just forget your behavior of the last five minutes.” The smile on Adler’s lips was so wrong Dean wanted nothing more than to punch it right off. “Don’t you have some work to return to?”

Never, ever in his life, Dean had felt more like a worthless piece of shit and so angry at the same time. He could only stare at his boss, trying to keep the shaking of his body to a minimum so it wouldn’t be too noticeable. Anger, disappointment, rage, all those feelings were battling inside him, all with a litany of the same question over and over: _How could I’ve been so stupid?_

It felt like hours had passed when he found his voice again.

“You’ll never even consider me for a promotion or even just a raise, will you?”

Adler, slightly startled as though he’d already forgotten that Dean was even there, locked back up at him. “Oh, Dean. Dean, Dean, Dean,” he scolded him – actually fucking _scolded_ him, as if he was still a kid that had just taken a cookie he wasn’t supposed to take. “We both know you’re only here because you were part of the deal your father made all these years ago. Please, do not forget that. It’s not like you were actually made to be an architect. And now. Chop-chop, I guess there’s plenty of work for you to do.”

“No.”

Dean had no idea who was more surprised about this little syllable. He had said it calmly, collected, but with venom and conviction, leaving no doubt.

“I beg your pardon?”

His mind was racing for all of five seconds, before it became as calm as his voice had been, centered on two solid thoughts: _Your mom’s soul has long left the place_ and _You’re worth everything, I love you_.

“You heard me, I said ‘no’.”

“What are you talking about, Dean. Of course there is work for you to do.”

“Not for me, no, there isn’t. And you wanna know why? Because screw you, that’s why.”

Red quickly spread over Adler’s face and Dean watched it with a kind of satisfaction he never knew he would ever feel. “I will pretend I didn’t hear that, Dean, as long as you –”

“Oh, you didn’t hear it? Then let me repeat.” Dean put his fists back on the desk, leaning in once more to look Adler directly in his eyes. “Screw. You.”

Dean found himself waiting to see if steam came out of Adler’s ears. Instead, a vein on his temple became visible. “Get out, Winchester. You’re FIRED!”

“You can’t fire me, and you know that. But you know what: I quit. And since I hardly ever took any vacation time, I’ll do so right now. Have a nice life, Zachariah, with the sorry bunch you call your head architects. Wonder who they’re going to steal ideas from now.” Dean turned around and went for the door as he heard Adler’s chair move.

“You fool! You just made a big mistake. I’ll make sure you won’t get a job anywhere in Melbourne ever again.”

Turning around, he saw Adler standing at his desk, rage coming off of him in waves. The man knew he was screwed without Dean.

But he could only smirk at his threat. “Who said I wanted to stay in Melbourne?” As he opened the door, he couldn’t keep himself from adding. “Oh and by the way: I already have another job. But thank you for your concern. It’s much appreciated.” Stepping out of the office, he closed the door and left his former boss behind.

 

 

Empting his desk and saying goodbye to his colleagues all happened in a kind of haze. He still couldn’t believe he’d really just done that. Cain helped him so he wouldn’t forget anything, before promising to stop by whenever he needed him.

And then he was standing in front of the building he’d grown up in and that had been like yet another home to him and holy shit.

Holy shit, he’d just quit his job and his life in Australia.

A few hours ago he’d been looking for houses with Cas to start a life together here and now?

Jesus, what if for some reason Fitzgerald IV. had decided that Moondoor wasn’t worth it after all? What if he wouldn’t give them the money? Or worse: what if he and Cas met and figured out it wasn’t anything real after all? Sonofabitch, what had he done?

In the end, Dean had no recollection of getting back to his Baby, but his laptop was coming to life before his head even caught up with it. And thankfully, Charlie was online. Dean couldn’t recall ever being so happy having friends that were able to be online 24/7.

“Dean? What’s up with you,” the redhead greeted him, obviously a bit worried. “Shouldn’t you be at work?”

“Charlie, are we still going to make Moondoor a real business? Is Fitzgerald still on board?”

“Ehm … yes?”

“Good.”

“Dean, what’s going on? Why are you ask–” He could see the exact moment Charlie realized what must be going on. But somehow, this was wrong. Dean loved her like a sister – but she shouldn’t be the first to know. No, there was someone else who held that honor. “Oh my God, Dean, does that –”

“Charlie, I’ll call you back, okay? I’ll call you back, but I have to talk to Cas first. Talk to you later.”

Seeing how Charlie was squealing and bouncing up and down in her chair, Dean didn’t wait for her reply before disconnecting their skype call and dialing Cas’ number.

“Dean? What’s wrong, are you okay?”

He loved this man. Oh, how he loved him. How could he have ever thought about not going all the way to America to be with Cas?

“Cas, do you love me?”

“What’s going on? Did you kill someone? Yes, Dean, I’ll wait for you while you’re in jail.” He could hear the hint of a smile in Cas’ voice, but it didn’t help his nerves at all, even though he was grinning over Cas’ joke.

“Cas, please,” he begged, nervous as hell, knowing it was probably without a reason. But he needed to know, because the answer to this question meant everything right now. “Please just answer me.”

Those blue eyes that had been in his dreams for so long now and that he couldn’t wait for to see for real very soon; those blue eyes were on him, studying him and searching for an answer as to what had gotten into Dean. “Of course I love you, you know that. I’m about to move all the way to Australia because of it. Now, would you please –”

“I quit my job.”

Cas’ face in that moment was priceless. Dean huffed out a laugh, not yet able to comprehend how liberating those four words actually felt. He could only smile and grin, trying not to explode.

“What? When? How, I mean … I mean … Dean!”

“Yes!”

“Are you serious?”

“Yes.” In that moment, Dean would have given anything to be right there with Castiel, being able to hug him and hold him. But, oh sweet Jesus, it wouldn’t be long anymore before he could do exactly that. “And I’m moving to San Francisco.”

“Are you … are you sure?” The first tears were already slowly falling down Castiel’s cheeks and Dean wished he could wipe them away. Instead, he touched the monitor of his laptop, trying to pretend it was Cas’ face.

“I’m sure. I’m so sure about this and I can’t wait to actually hold you in my arms for the first time.” He could feel his own tears running freely now, but just like Cas, he was smiling like a madman.

“But … but I thought … your business. And I already planned … Dean, what about Melbourne? I can move, I’m serious. I don’t care, I can do it, I –”

“Cas,” Dean interrupted his boyfriend’s rambling. How could it be possible that his love for this man was still growing every minute of the day? “I know. I know all that. But it would be stupid, really. Our life, our friends, heck even my family – they’re all in California. And I just cut my ties to the last thing that held me here. So that’s it. I’m going to pack my stuff and … and I’m coming to you.”

“What happened?” Cas asked after a long moment of just silently staring at Dean.

In quick sentences he told Cas the whole story before they took a short break so he could call Sam to let him know as well. Afterwards, he called back Charlie who’d used the time to rush over to Gabe’s place so they could hear it together. He was sure his ears would be ringing for a few days from all their screaming.

Cas had used the short break to start a list of all the things Dean would have to do, mostly using a list he’d actually started for himself. From giving notice on his apartment to maybe selling what little furniture he had as well as his ute, sorting through his stuff to see what would fit on Baby, and actually getting his Baby ready for the journey – hell, there was so much to think about. At least he wouldn’t have a problem with entering the country, seeing how he’d never actually given up his American citizenship, living in Australia as a permanent resident.

Beside the whole workload, Dean was still confident that he would be able to get it done within a few days. Now that he was finally free, he didn’t want to waste any more time and the time of year in both hemispheres was perfect for the trip across the ocean right now, but only just so. If everything went as they planned, Dean would be able to start by the end of the next week and would land in San Francisco just a week shy of Cas having to leave for his book tour around America.

While Cas was still putting together list after list, Dean finally got out of his suit and threw on a comfortable pair of jeans and his favorite Zeppelin shirt to start tinkering around Baby. It was still only early afternoon on Friday, so why not get a head start. There was a bit of tidying up to do, things that needed to be sorted so there would be enough space to get all his stuff in here.

Once that was done, he left Cas to write all the formal notices he’d need for his job, the apartment, the berth for Baby here and a new one in San Francisco and so much more (there definitely were some perks about having a writer for a boyfriend), while he drove to back to his apartment for the first time in days.

Switching on his computer system and calling Cas again, they worked in companionable silence, both ticking off item after item from Cas’ lists.

He was almost done in the kitchen when he heard Cas the next time. “You seriously have over two months’ worth of vacation time left?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I think I’ve told you before, but: you definitely worked too hard for that asshole.”

Smiling, Dean only blew a kiss in his boyfriend’s direction.

“Well, the good thing about it is that you can leave right away and still get money for the next few weeks. Do you want me to add a new bank account for them to put your salary on or do you just want to keep your Aussie bank account for now and close it later?”

“Ehm … don’t know?” Dean replied, throwing another stash of plastic crockery out. Honestly, why had he lived like a poor guy for so many years? “What do you think?”

“Well, given what kind of ass your boss is, I’d say don’t make it too complicated for him. Keep the account for now. Talk to your bank about the situation. Once you have a new account here and the last paycheck is in, you can transfer the money and then close it for good. Or, you know, you could just keep it. You can always think about that later.”

“Cool,” Dean nodded in the affirmative, moving on to the last cupboard. Once he was done with the kitchen, the sparse stuff that would come with him cleaned and sorted, ready to be wrapped up, Dean moved on to the bathroom. There was quite a bit cleaning to be done here, but most of the towels could either be thrown out or used to wrap up stuff. Maybe he could use them as rags to clean Baby?

“Dean?”

“Mh?” he replied as he came out of the bathroom, the second room finished already.

“Dean, would you sit down for a second?”

Cas’ tone made Dean look up. His boyfriend looked quite serious and even a bit worried so Dean choose to listen and sat down in front of him.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Cas was quick to reassure him. “I just wanna make sure this isn’t all too quick for you. It’s not even been six hours that you quit your job and already you’re packing up your apartment and –”

“Cas.” When his boyfriend actually fell quiet, Dean gave him a warm smile. “I haven’t told you this before, but: Since we got together, I’ve thought about doing this more than once.”

There was the little head tilt again that Dean loved so much. “Doing what?”

“This. Packing up my apartment, throwing everything on Baby, and just move to be with you.”

“But …”

“Two weeks ago, when Adler revealed the possible promotion … I was actually seriously considering quitting already.” Looking over the systematic chaos that was his desk (most likely the place that would take him the longest to clean up) he remembered that day, not believing how stupid he’d been. “The prospect of maybe getting a promotion? I don’t know, it was like an echo of a dream I had for so long that I clung to it without even thinking about the situation. Which was utterly stupid of me. Today though? It brought me back to reality.” His eyes wandered back to the screen, searching for Cas’ beautiful eyes. They were swimming in tears once again. “And my reality is you now. And I don’t give a fuck about how sappy that sounds.”

Huffing out a watery laugh, Cas wiped away the tears in his eyes, before sitting up straight and going back to his work on all of Dean’s paperwork. “Well that’s good. Because I most definitely plan on sailing into the sunset with you.”

 Dean’s laughter boomed around the apartment and throwing Cas another kiss which his boyfriend returned, they both went back to work.

 

 

The next days were spent arranging details. Dean put together a route he could possibly sail to get to San Francisco and made sure he spent one night that weekend in the bar most sailors patronized. When he got back to Baby that night, he took home a perfectly detailed navigation route as well as a bucket full of tips and good advice. And just by accident he’d also found someone that was interested in buying his ute, which was simply awesome.

He didn’t need more than a few more hours on Friday night and Saturday to have all his stuff in his apartment sorted. Some of it, like his mattress, the desk, and the couch he would just leave there, not even bothering to try and sell the stuff. If the next tenant didn’t need the things, they could get rid of them or try to make some money with it. Although Dean highly doubted anyone would pay for that. The driftwood shelf on the other hand found its way onto Baby. He’d made it himself and for some reason, that had a special meaning to him.

The most of the boxes were taken up by his books and DVDs, but even with those he didn’t need more than a total of nine moving boxes to pack up his whole life in Melbourne. Sonofabitch, he’d had such a sad life here.

The only thing he couldn’t wrap up as easily was his parents’ gravestones. Each day he made sure he spent a while in the cemetery. The more he visited, the more he knew that he had done the right thing. He knew his parents had always wanted him to be happy, and he finally was. It was hard saying goodbye to them, but it was also the right thing to do. Cain promised he would check on the graves now and then and Dean also made a contract with the cemetery for maintenance of the graves. Saying goodbye for the last time was probably the hardest thing to do and he knew that this was the only place he left a piece of his heart in Australia. But he also knew why he did it and when he left the cemetery on Wednesday night, it was with a wide smile and a feeling of hope.

And then suddenly, it was Thursday morning and Dean was standing in his empty and cleaned out apartment, looking around the sad little room one last time before handing the keys over to the landlord. He hadn’t slept in this hole in weeks, just used the laundry one last time last night and that was it. His stuff was packed away on Baby, together with enough food for three weeks, even though they’d estimated that he could make it in two. The last paper work was done and everything set. His life in Melbourne wrapped up.

The guy that had bought his ute was on time, just giving him a nod before signing the registration papers and driving away. Cain waited for Dean at the pier, hugging him one last time.

And finally, Dean set sail and left Australia behind.

 

 

Cas was pacing along the pier, nervous as hell. It had been just a little over two weeks since Dean had set sail in Melbourne and he was expected to arrive today, in the early evening hours on a Friday. He wasn’t running late or anything and since they’d constantly stayed in contact as best as they could while Dean was on the ocean without any internet and just a satellite phone, Cas knew Dean was okay and the trip had been as smooth as they could’ve hoped for.

No, there was a completely different reason Cas was so nervous – besides the fact that in just a few minutes, he would meet his boyfriend in person for the first time (at least knowingly). With all their planning, they had completely neglected to discuss one crucial topic: where Dean would actually live now. Was he planning on getting his own apartment? Would he stay on Baby or move in with Sam? Was he counting on living with Cas right away? Was Cas okay with that? Jesus, why hadn’t they talked about that? What if they tried and figured out they weren’t cut for each other?

“There he is!”

Sam’s sudden yell brought all of Cas’ thoughts to a halt and his eyes flew to the horizon. When his eyes found the silver sails against the pink sky of a beautiful sunset his heart began to race and the next few minutes – or was it hours? – were almost painful they seemed to take so long. He felt frozen in place, not able to take one step as the boat got closer and closer.

Finally, he could see a person on deck, working something his mind couldn’t make any sense of.

Dean.

Oh God, he was here, he was really, seriously here.

A few more minutes and all of the sudden, the boat was there, right next to the pier. Dean picked up an anchor rope and threw it over where Sam was ready to catch it and rope Baby up. A second later and Dean had jumped onto the pier, hugging his brother and laughing and hugging him some more. Next was Sarah. Then Charlie. Then Gabe.

And then their eyes met.

Until this moment, Cas had had no idea how he would react. Would they just hug like friends? Would they kiss right away like the boyfriends they were? Would it be awkward, would it be romantic? He’d had no idea. Not until this moment.

Because the moment their eyes met they were both in motion and a second later they were clasped in each other’s arms, pulling the other close. And dear Lord, Dean smelled like heaven. Like leather and wind and the sea and God, he was so warm and he was here. In his arms.

“I love you.” It was honestly all Cas could think of in this moment. “I love you so much.”

Slowly, Dean let go of him, just enough to be able to cup Cas’ face tenderly in his and for a second, Cas closed his eyes, savoring the warm touch. But then again, it was a sacrilege to not look at this beautiful man and those green eyes that had been part of his dreams for years now and that apparently were even greener in reality. And they were so full of love Cas wanted to drown in them.

“I love you too,” came Dean’s reply as his hand wandered to the front of Cas’ shirt, fisting it to pull him impossibly closer. Cas felt his own hand wander into Dean’s hair of its own accord and at long last, he finally felt those soft lips on his for the first time. He was sure the kiss hadn’t lasted for long when he heard someone clear their throat and their friends’ giggles and chuckles. But feeling Dean’s wide smile against his own, he didn’t give a damn about their audience and leaned in once more, chasing the sweet taste that was all Dean and finally his.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Dean was panting as he gripped Cas closer, his hips moving relentlessly. He kissed along the sweat covered neck, eliciting one moan after another from the beautiful man in his arms. Through half-lidded eyes he could see Cas’ knuckles go white from how hard he clasped the railing. Shifting his position, Dean let go of Cas’ hips and let both his hands wander over his lover’s. Immediately, Cas intertwined their fingers, the two silver bands on their ring fingers catching the sun. The slight shift in their position made his husband mewl. Kissing his neck up to his ear, Dean savored each little noise and each rub of friction from the writhing man beneath him. As he reached the ear, he nibbled on Cas’ earlobe, before whispering, “I told you you’d love it.” He made sure his rumble was extra deep, knowing just how much it always drove his partner wild. But as Cas’ hips snapped back, Dean lost all conscious thought of teasing. A few more hard thrusts and Cas came untouched, Dean directly behind him, biting down on Cas shoulder to keep from yelling out loud.

They collapsed back on the blankets they’d splayed across the deck, cleaning up lazily before cuddling close while catching their breaths.

“Admit it,” Dean said after a while when his heart beat was finally back to normal.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cas replied, still sounding a bit breathless, a fact that made Dean grin smugly.

“Do it, or I’ll throw you in the ocean.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

The fucker even sounded confident when he said that. Oh, it was so on.

“Alright,” Dean replied, getting up and reaching for Cas. Before his husband could even react, Dean had him in his arms, bridal style, and stumbled a few inches closer to the railing. Not an easy task given the fact that they were on a boat that was rocking in the shallow waters of a bay.

“Oh my God, Dean,” Cas squealed, clinging to him with all he had. “Put me down!”

Sure that he had a safe stance, Dean did no such thing. Besides the fact that it was quite nice to have his naked and chuckling husband clinging to him, this was also a matter of principle. “Admit it.”

“Dean!”

“Admit it.”

“Alright, alright. You were right, I was wrong, now let me down.”

“What exactly?”

Growling between all his squealing, Cas finally relented. “It was a perfect idea to take a trip to a secluded bay and let you fuck me against the railing now put me the fuck down.”

“Hell yes it was,” Dean replied, giving his man a sweet kiss while carefully putting him back down. Cas made no move to respond to the kiss, but Dean was persistent and Cas was never able to stay mad at him for long. At least not when he only pretended to be mad and not when Dean knew all the right places on his body to caress.

After all, on this day he’d had five years of getting to know every inch of this beautiful man. It was the anniversary of Dean’s arrival in San Francisco and as he held his husband in his arms, both of them cuddled together in a pile of blankets, leaning against the railing, Dean couldn’t believe how much his life had changed.

He actually had moved in with Cas right away and not a day went by that they weren’t happy about their decision. Sure, it helped that the house was spacious and Dean could always just sleep a night on Baby if the need should arise. But it never did. The two of them had simply clicked and life without the other soon was something neither of them even wanted to think about.

Moondoor had continued to be a success and now, almost six years after they had started it, their community spread over the whole of America and also parts of the rest of the world. LARPs were to be found in different locations all over Northern America and Garth was sure they’d be able to expand to the other continents within the next five years as well.

The four friends were still the brains behind everything. But by now, each of them had a whole team under their command, each staff member handpicked. Dean had taken a while to fully put his trust in his team, but by now he had no problem letting them handle huge parts of the world. Yet only Kevin, his personal assistant as the young man liked to call himself, was allowed to make his own decisions without getting back to Dean about it first.

It had actually become necessary for Dean to give up some control. Because not a year after he’d left Melbourne, he’d gotten a letter from Cain, telling him in gleeful details how Adler had to declare bankruptcy. It was the first time Dean and Cas had taken the trip together to Melbourne where, with a little financial help from Cas, Dean had been able to finally buy back his family’s business. Not wanting to give up his life in San Francisco, he’d made Cain his business partner, trusting the man to run the business in honor of Mary Winchester. Only every now and then, Dean would give his thoughts and ideas and use the talent he had inherited from his mother to create buildings all around Melbourne.

Cas also had to learn to relinquish some responsibility. After he’d ended the Ghostfacers-series with a bang and a kind of “riding together into the sunset”-finale, he’d taken a break to devote himself to Moondoor for a while. But after their first trip to Melbourne, the idea for a new series had taken root in his mind and his muse wouldn’t let it lie. Of course Dean had to help him a lot with this one, since Cas had decided to write a series about a hero that was living on a boat, sailing the oceans. The fact that Cas had no idea about any of that didn’t matter – “that’s what I have you for, Dean.”

Dean absolutely didn’t mind, because on the plus side, it meant hours upon hours with Cas on the open ocean to give him inspiration and firsthand experience in sailing.

Just a year later, they’d made another trip to Melbourne and while visiting his parents’ graves, Cas had kneeled down and asked for Dean’s hand in marriage and had also asked Dean’s parents for their blessing.

Still remembering that day with a fond smile, Dean traced the silver band on his husband’s finger, pressing a soft kiss to his temple and whispering “I love you” in his ear.

Their kissing soon became a bit more heated and not long after they were both ready for another round … when a little wail interrupted them. Whining, Dean wasn’t so ready to let go of Cas, who only smiled as he untangled himself from Dean’s arms. Giving his husband a quick peck on the lips, he got up and threw on his trunks before making the trip down below. Sighing, Dean got up and got dressed as well. Because something else had changed a few months ago. A little angel in the form of Mary Charlene had been ready to be adopted by them. And as Cas got back on deck with the sweet little sunshine in his arms, both smiling wide at him, Dean knew one thing for sure: His life was finally perfect.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I really hope you all liked it. Because I’m going to be honest: I had a hard time with this fic and if it hadn’t been for the amazing art from [made-of-stardusts](http://made-of-stardusts.tumblr.com/) (on [ao3](http://archiveofourown.org/users/dudewhereismypie)) she’d already created after my first shitty draft, I would have dropped out. Her art, though, inspired me to scratch out almost everything I’d written in my first draft and simply start over again … and see where that led me ^^ so thank you so, so much <3  
> As always, a huge thanks goes to my wonderful beta Sarah ([Feathers7501](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Feathers7501/)) – I know you don’t have it easy with me but you never complain and I love you so much <3  
> Also a big thanks to [ destimushi ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/destimushi) for getting me through my writer’s block with this fic and giving me the glorious idea to tread it as a reverse bang and get inspired by the beautiful art – that was perfect!  
> I know literally nothing about sailing or boats or everything that comes with it, so everything you’ve read here about Dean’s Baby are things [Savannah](http://www.savannahjacobson.com/) helped we with, from picking what type of boat Baby is to answering every small question I had. For that, thank you so much.
> 
> Last but not least, I like to once again thank the wonderful people of the Destiel groups on Facebook – it’s always so awesome asking for help there and getting it right away. That’s what the Supernatural Family is all about <3 love you all.
> 
> Thanks for reading and see you soon for more fics ;)


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